On Kaiser Island
by Cowjump
Summary: There is no such thing as a home abandoned. A home sticks with you. A home shapes you, for better or worse. In the case of Team RWBY and their trials in Atlas, a home proves able to tear them apart. Join these huntress pairs as they conquer their divides, growing closer under fire on the island of Schnee.
1. Chapter 1: Routine Disruption

Thank you for reading.

Before we begin and I let you all go, there are a few orders of introduction that need to be taken care of. Firstly, hi. If you haven't read my works before, be warned that this novel will be a long one—all nineteen chapters after this should consistently be above the 20,000-word mark. Some may say this is excessive, and, from an editor's viewpoint, I would agree. However, it works for the story being told. By this novel's end, it will have numbered twenty chapters and somewhere over 400,000 words.

If you have read my works before and are coming from _Valence_ or _Edelweiss_ , then welcome back! I promised both sides this would be both a Bumblebee and White Rose story, and I did not lie. Before you make any judgments as to how this split of pairings will work, please read the entire chapter first. I promise you'll figure it out. It's going to be a good one, I believe, and the events I have planned for Ruby and Weiss, Blake and Yang, and Team RWBY as a whole are making me impatient. Thank you so much for sticking with me.

Now, I should also give a bit of a disclaimer. I don't mean to say I'm anything great or especially good, but my writing style has been proven to be polarizing. Some people hate it, some people love it—this has nothing to do with the plot, itself, but instead the writing that surrounds it. If the writing just doesn't connect with you, that's all right; _On Kaiser Island_ isn't targeted at everyone. But if you do enjoy the writing, then thank you.

The largest complaint I've received from _Valence_ , a novel in the same universe as this, was that the chapter, sentence, and paragraph lengths did not fit with Fanfiction's formatting. For this reason, I provide PDFs for all my chapters (in backgrounds both black and white) in a link found on my profile.

With all of that out of the way, I'll leave you to it. Thank you again for reading. I hope you enjoy _On Kaiser Island_.

* * *

Chapter 1: Routine Disruption

Snow fell quietly on the darkened campus of Beacon Academy, little wisps of ice tapping softly against the library's oversized window. This southern anomaly was almost certainly the work of Professor Goodwitch and her most recent hazardous-condition scenarios, but Blake knew this was not her entire motive. This was still a school, after all, and what school would deprive its students the chance for a snow day? Of course, no regular school could prepare a snow day so much as they could announce one, but Beacon had Dust, and if Dust could create storms and squalls, a little festive weather was not too far from feasible. Nevertheless, Blake shook herself from these musings and got back to work.

This second year of study had already proven more rigorous than the young Faunus' first, but she could not say this semester had been expressly harder. Her missions were indeed tougher and far more frequent and the new coursework did demand extra time spent reading and writing, but, besides these, her sophomore year did not seem too bad at all.

This was especially true since she had chosen classes whose subjects were both enthusing and a joy to read while her missions were made far less stressful by a truly incredible partner. She could not help but smile at this latter thought.

Her current task left her seated at a wide study table, all on her own and with a dozen books opened to specific pages. Texts historical and psychological, atlases and almanacs, and even a large black-leather journal with a long dead language scrawled across its cover were arranged in a messy semicircle around her scroll and progressing essay. This was to be the final exam paper for her History and Moral Philosophy class, and although Yang often teased her about it being due many months from now, Blake knew it was better to work when still enthused than risk procrastination. And thus, for her assignment on unit cohesion and its effects both on and off of the battlefield, "Opposites Attract: From Trope to Truth" was born.

Weiss was supposedly doing hers on the differences between conscription and volunteer soldiers over the course of the Great War, but Blake was told little else on the matter. To her knowledge, the heiress had completed it a couple months ago with the aid of her family's records. Ruby, on the other hand, had given a confused look when asked about her topic. In her defense, however, Blake and Weiss were the only ones in the school being this proactive.

There were, of course, unnecessary stresses which came from this level of enterprise, but Blake figured that if she got her most difficult final out of the way soon, the inexorable pains of her next semester would be somewhat lessened. It also allowed her to spend time alone and in a novel setting, relaxing as she worked. The library's lights were dimmed low, leaving a gradient of warm browns and ambers to paint her quiet hideaway and a series of dreamy shadows to wash away all the distracting sights. And with the white flecks fluttering beyond the ceiling-tall window and out into the black of night, a sense of natural serenity could be appreciated.

Blake sighed and simply listened to her breath, marveling at this rare taste of solitude.

However, she suddenly flinched at the distinct crunch of paper from somewhere beyond her bowed ears. She blinked and looked down. Her pencil had yet to even touch the sheets before her, but her wrist had been resting atop them for a while. She must have moved it on accident.

With another sigh, Blake fixed her posture and bore down upon the table, writing her name, date, title, and "Draft 1" in her regular cursive across the heading. She smiled. Everything seemed to be in order, and she felt confident about what she meant to write. Using the experiences she remembered from both her less-than-agreeable days in the White Fang and as well the eventful summer she had spent with the rest of her team, everything she needed to know about teamwork and partnership was firmly within her realm of understanding. Now all she needed to do was integrate her sources. It was all too exciting.

The Faunus allowed herself a slight grin as she finally put words to paper, letting her pride swell as the opening sentence pulled her in with the same energy her novels always carried. There was honest meaning to her argument, heartache and love which spurred her enthusiasm and coaxed words out at a steady speed.

But, once again, she was interrupted by the hiss of paper torn.

She pulled her pencil up in alarm and looked to the line she had been writing on. Nothing. Her grin was overtaken by a frown as she lifted her paper up and held it to the light. No tears, no creases. Was there something wrong with the other sheets? The books? Blake looked to the semicircle before her and still found nothing. Her frown held, but she nonetheless put her paper back and continued writing.

As her mind set to work on stringing memories together, she could not help but look back on that summer of her inspiration. Following the final days of her freshman year, Blake had taken up her teammates' invitation to spend her break in Vale. This had been her first lasting period of rest since she was a girl of eight, and unlike those times when she was then learning piano with her mother or going out to get ice cream with her father or even familiarizing herself with White Fang propaganda, this last summer had been something to remember. Mostly, she held happy memories of it and willed herself to keep them positive, but there were unfortunate complications throughout which had unarguably changed her life forever.

Where this intersected her topic of unit cohesion, however, was in the season's fallout. Despite the three-month long rollercoaster of emotions, her team had collectively returned to Beacon stronger than ever. Admittedly, they were neither the most skilled nor experienced individual fighters in the school, but if this second year's mission records and sparring outcomes were of any proof, Team RWBY had become the school's most synchronized team across all classes.

They still had a lot to improve upon, but their reaction times had heightened when together, their maneuvers flowed much more naturally, and, most importantly to the Faunus' essay, the amount of trust they placed in each other was near total. Even if Yang and Weiss were at each other's throats most days, both jokingly and angrily, they always showed respect when in combat together. The team was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but upon sparing with Teams JNPR and even CFVY, Blake noticed that just about every other team besides her own found synchronicity in their two partnerships rather than as a whole team—they were divisible in their own ways and thus subject to failure. What seemingly set RWBY apart, or so the essay was to go, was the synchronicity between partners as well as the team altogether. They could easily work in groups of two but did even better when brought together.

All in all, it had been a successful summer. Blake once again allowed herself a wistful smile as she turned her page over and continued on. She knew this draft would be unusable because of her wanderings, but she did not much care. Home was on the mind.

Suddenly, her ears perked beneath their bow. The library's quiet was again interrupted, this time by the sound of rushing air. The young Faunus snapped her head to look at the noise's source, realizing it had come from behind her, and found a momentarily baffling sight.

A small paper airplane drifted towards her, flying over the shorter shelves and wobbling as it went. Blake raised a confused brow as it swooped, soared, and eventually landed in the center of her workspace. This was certainly new. Some part of her wanted to brush the plane aside so she could get back to writing, but that part of her mind was made ever the more irrelevant by the bemused look she gave the loose-leaf construct. Her curiosity had already been piqued and was only furthered by the faint markings hidden beneath the flyer's folds.

Blake sighed, acquiescing to this distraction and taking the obvious message in her hands. To the little thing's credit, it was expertly made—no excess creases or errors of any kind could be seen in its craftsmanship—but she nevertheless smirked at the large letters stretched lengthwise across the sheet.

"Missed you today," the note read. "And _you_ missed us. So much for a surprise party." At the end, a small, welcoming face stuck its tongue out at the Faunus.

Yang.

Somehow, the thought of procrastinating was made a lot more appealing. Blake pulled her chair back and turned to look at those shorter shelves. There was indeed a desire for solitude as was her introverted wont, but, at the same time, she had changed over her summer. Large gatherings were almost entirely abhorrent and even hours spent with Ruby and Weiss could become grating after a point, but Yang was another story. Whereas this silent privacy and promise of essay progress seemed like a nice way to relax on a Friday night, the mere thought of spending her weekend with her partner proved unequivocally more exciting.

In this way, she could only watch as another plane shot up from across the library, flying straight towards the vaulted ceiling before leveling out and descending upon her position. The Faunus smirked, tracking the construction as it lazily drifted towards her and eventually stopped with a feeble crunch, hitting her square in the forehead.

An exultant "Yes!" was whispered from beyond the shelves.

Blake shook her head, quietly chuckling at the new message in her lap. She gingerly unfolded it and confirmed her sender suspicions from the telling words "Here kitty kitty."

By this point in time and station, Blake Belladonna was well past blushing at her given moniker, instead forming something of an impish glint in her eye. Rather than continuing the essay she had spent nearly three hours preparing for, she dropped every plan in favor of Yang. She took the two messages, collecting them carefully to reread at a later date, and slid them into her journal as makeshift bookmarks before closing the cover and locking its latch. The rest of her material would be safe for now, Blake figured.

She stood and immediately forwent any sort of etiquette in either considering her surroundings or pushing in her chair. After all, she had not seen the interruptive blonde all day and wanted nothing more than to fix that mistake. With an eager grin uncharacteristic to the days before last summer, the young Faunus hurried across the library, notions of progress and diligence by now forgotten. Being that the wide room was devoid of both faculty and students, there was no one left to tell her how to act. She was free in this moment, and not a thing in the world could deprive her of this when at last she found her girlfriend.

Boots crossed flagrantly atop a computer desk, arms resting deep within her golden mane, and with a practiced attempt at a cocky, playful smirk, Yang Xiao Long waited patiently for her partner. There had been a time in their relation wherein a blushing Faunus would not have dared to think of her in any physically descriptive way, but those times were gone and forgotten. Her smirk had faltered by its joking façade, giving way to the natural smile and warmth Blake had long ago fallen for.

The Faunus leaned against the nearest bookshelf. "Hey," she smirked.

"Hey, yourself." Even Yang's voice exuded warmth. Every syllable and inflection, every smile and glance made Blake feel welcomed, wanted. Her care was genuine, and she was loved for it.

"You know, you left out a couple commas in your last message. What did I tell you about proofreading?"

"Gee. Thanks, Weiss." The blonde rolled her eyes. "Aren't you gonna say something about how great a headshot that was?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. The shot _was_ great. Your syntax, on the other hand…"

Yang took her legs off the table, leaning forward to rest then on her elbows and give a disbelieving look. "Hey, if it really bothers you that much, just audit me." Her lips budged for half a second before her frown recomposed. This had been a joke—of what, however, Blake was uncertain.

They let this pause linger for a moment as a quizzical brow was raised. Eventually, Yang sighed. "Get it? Syntax? Tax? Audi—You know what? Forget it. Bad joke."

Blake chuckled softly and shook her head. "I never expected anything less."

She strode across the space between them, watching contentedly as her partner's eyes trained on her own. Interactions between the two had indeed grown more fervent since they returned from Vale together, but no matter how far they had come, no matter how much they had done, Blake found that they still looked at each other like they were freshly in love. And as she moved beside the blonde and sat atop the computer desk to look down at her, the flutter in her heart said much the same.

"I missed you today," said Yang. "You kinda just bugged out on us before I was even awake. Probably had your reasons, but you still missed your surprise party."

The Faunus' smile fell somewhat. "Sorry. I was busy."

"Yeah, I can tell. You haven't even changed out of your uniform yet, and it's, what, nine already?" She shrugged. "But you don't have to apologize to me. I get it; you wanted to do this, and that's fine. But Nora's mad. And so is Weiss. But I don't think she's as mad as Nora."

Perhaps it had been an error to not take a break. Of course, Blake had been happy to get her work out of the way and spend some needed time alone, but her friends had all chipped in for…something. Unwittingly or not, she had brushed them off. She sighed. "Yang, you know how I feel about parties."

"I know, but it's your _birthday_ , Blake!" The Faunus blinked at her, unmoved. "Okay, maybe not the best thing to say, but c'mon. We got Weiss to join in on a snowball fight, and you know how she feels about the cold."

"A snowball fight?"

"Yup! We were gonna ambush you after you got out of Port's class, but you never showed up. After some sleuthing around, we figured you were busy and just called the whole thing off." An apologetic smile was given, quietly assuring it was all right, either way. "If you want, we can probably do it again tomorrow or Sunday, but Nora's just mad that the whole gang's not gonna be there. The Odd Couple's out 'cause Jaune thinks he caught the flu, and you know how Pyrrha gets. And Weiss is also out because, and I quote, 'If she can't adhere to her schedule, then I shouldn't, either.' So, basically, we're down three."

"Yang, you know you don't have to do this. Really, my birthday isn't that big of a deal."

"I understand, kitten. But I don't think this was meant for you in the first place. I mean, it was since it is your party and all, but I think Nora and Ruby needed it more."

"And what about you?" Blake broke a slight smirk. "You're never the passive type when it comes to these sorts of celebrations."

A similar look was sent back in kind. "To tell you the truth, I was kinda daydreaming about how I was gonna turn on them and fight beside you instead—just like a bodyguard jumping in front of the prime minister or something."

"And you thought we'd take on an army by ourselves."

"Well, the world, technically, but same difference."

"And you never thought how I'd react to being ambushed—especially by seven ultra-competent fighters?"

"Hey, not my plan! Besides, I was planning on helping you anyways." She paused to consider something. "Well, maybe after throwing a couple snowballs at you first, but we're all on the same team, right?"

"Triple agent."

"Quadruple," Yang corrected.

They laughed for a moment, simply relaxing to this lightheartedness they had kept from all day. There was never a dull moment whenever Yang was in a good mood, and although her darker moments could lead to darker times, this light she imbued was simply rejuvenating. They each let out a sigh they had unwittingly been holding in for who knows how long and returned to each other on the other side of their mirth.

"But that's not why you came here, is it?" Blake eventually surmised. "You don't seem too upset about me being busy and I know for certain you didn't come to lecture me. You have something else up your sleeve, don't you?"

"Bingo. Got a proposition. For your eyes only. It's kinda about your birthday, kinda not. You interested?"

Blake glanced at the shelves that hid her work and frowned. "I'm sorry, Yang, but not tonight. I don't think I'll be able to focus with this essay on my mind. But I promise we can do it this weekend if you're still up for it."

In an instant, the blonde's eyes widened in eager surprise. "Okay. That totally wasn't what I was talking about, but I am _so_ holding you to that promise."

A blush burned across the Faunus' cheeks.

Yang shook her head and leaned back in her chair, adopting a somewhat businesslike expression. She was, of course, still smiling and exhibited nothing but honest warmth in this relative calm, but the certainty in her eyes told that she truly did have a proposition to discuss. The Faunus' blush subsided when she found no judgment, leading her to nod and, consequently, widen her partner's smile.

"So, first off, I get it. You don't like birthday parties. They make you the center of attention and cause a big scene—I get that part. But I still want to take you out to dinner sometime—not tonight, you know, but when we get the chance—and Ruby and Weiss want to take you out to lunch. Nothing big, nothing flashy; it's all just a thank-you."

She paused for effect, giving her partner time to consider the offer. However, Blake was not certain what the offer actually entailed or if it had even been given in its entirety. It was typical of the sisters to extend this sort of appreciative gesture, especially since the team had become something of a surrogate family. But why would Yang come here at this hour—and without Ruby or Weiss for that matter? Something did not add up.

"I appreciate the sentiment," Blake said, trying to keep her speculation level so not to come off as ungrateful. "But I have a feeling you don't intend to dine out at the cafeteria, and I know for certain Weiss wouldn't be caught dead thanking anyone without an elaborate plan."

"Well, yes and no," explained Yang. "I mean, I _did_ get the keys to the cafeteria so we could have a tide-you-over date later—you know, just to make sure you're not totally busy all the time. But, yeah. That dinner I was talking about is _not_ gonna happen at the cafeteria. I'm frugal, Blake, but I'm not tasteless."

"Uh-huh. 'Frugal.' Sure."

"Yeah, okay. Fine. Just because I like spoiling you sometimes doesn't mean I like spending money. At least give me that much."

"Sure; that is, if you'll let me chip in from time to time." Yang rolled her eyes, gave a jokingly dismissive laugh, and then settled her gaze upon her girlfriend's own. There was something more to this, and she understood Blake knew it, too. The Faunus smiled wryly. "So, what? Do you intend to have a candlelit dinner in our dorm room? Or would you like to break curfew and have a picnic in the snow? Yang, you know that we're stuck here until—"

A playful glint glimmered in those lilac eyes. She most definitely knew their romantic resources at the academy were limited, but it was surprising how little this seemed to faze her.

She had another plan.

"Wait," Blake stopped herself. "Vale?"

Yang nodded, smirk creeping upwards to an excited grin.

"You want to spend eight hours—sixteen cumulative—on an airship just so we can have dinner somewhere nice? Yang, that's unreasonable. I should really be spending this weekend working on—"

"And you'll be able to, don't worry. I wasn't planning for this weekend, anyways." An uncertain brow from the young Faunus only caused Yang's grin to widen. "Blake, I'm inviting you to spend Christmas with us!"

There was a moment where the Faunus did not know how to react. In any other circumstance, she would have been outright elated, agreeing instantly because of the joy she had found in her last summer break. But the circumstances had changed. It is not to say she thought negatively of the offer, being that she quite honestly wanted to accept, but she felt guilty somehow for not knowing of it sooner. She had assumed Yang and Ruby would spend the break with their father and uncle because of how vocally excited they had been, but now it seemed Blake had assumed poorly.

"C'mon, kitten! Ruby's working on Weiss right now, and you know they'll be upset if you don't come with us. Plus, I promise this'll be way better than summer! We can stay up late to work on your project, cuddle up with a movie when it gets cold out, and then Christmas, Blake!"

She was so excited, so convinced her plan would be seen to fruition that it hurt to say no. Blake sighed, looking down at the pattern in her uniform's skirt. Instantly, her partner's grin fell. "Yang…" she whispered. "I'm sorry. I already promised I'd spend the break in Sierra. My parents haven't seen me in a while, so—"

A sudden change in expression cut the Faunus short. What had been a frown on Yang's part turned to a reassured smirk, and it was this smirk that gave a sense of hope. "Oh, that?" she asked, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand. "Please. I already talked to them about it."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Wait. You called my parents?" She could not decide if this was incredibly fortunate or incredibly rude.

"Well…they kinda called me first. Wanted to see if you were still all right and didn't run back to the White Fang. I told them you didn't, told your dad I was still keeping you safe, and told your mom you were still at the top of the class. She also gave me some book recommendations to give you; have 'em back in the dorm if you're interested."

Between this covert conversation and the potentiality for a winter in Vale, all Blake could do was stare intently at the blonde, goading her into continuance.

Yang smiled. "Then we got to talking about the break. They said you'd already talked to them about it and planned some stuff out, but I asked how they felt about you spending it in Vale. Gotta say, they weren't super excited about the idea, but your mom said you could be the one to choose. She didn't sound like she wanted to pressure you into anything, but I'm pretty sure that's just mom code for 'Don't do something you'll regret.'" A gloved hand found its way into Blake's nearest own and squeezed. "So, what do you wanna do?"

Blake sighed. On one hand, she had cheated her parents out of ten years of her childhood, only returning for a few days last summer due to Yang's insistence. But, on the other hand, she more or less owed Yang every second of her life and was entirely happy to be in this debt. Yang tended to get lonely quite easily, and this had only worsened ever since Ruby and Weiss began dating. Moreover, the Faunus had made respective promises to the sisters which tasked her with upholding the blonde's emotional wellbeing.

It was a difficult decision, that between girlfriend and parents, and both had their repercussions. Unfortunately, both had their benefits, too, and Blake understood that choosing one would lead to the other's impossibility.

She looked into her partner's eyes, finding support for either direction and an indomitable well of strength to pull from and be brave for. Yang smiled and her irises seemed to lighten, sending out a wave of comforting heat. "Okay."

Instantly, Yang was ecstatic. "Really?" she beamed. "You mean it?"

"Tentatively. I'd still like to speak to my parents again so we're all on the same page, but I'd like you to be there, too. We still have a bridge to unburn, and I'd rather show some sort of respect when I tell them about my decision. I want you there as backup."

"Roger."

"And if my mom starts to disagree—"

"Then I'll let you do the talking," Yang accepted. "And if your dad has a problem with it, I'll step in. I still don't get that, by the way. Your mom has it out for me but your dad acts like I'm his second daughter."

"Yang, my mom _does_ trust you. It's just difficult for her to admit. She's like Weiss in that way, albeit more cryptic." A teasing shudder shook the blonde's form, causing Blake to distract herself with a laugh. "All right, I get it," she said. "Enough about my parents. This is supposed to be about our vacation together and, I assume, my impending birthday dinner."

"Yup!" Yang confirmed. "Glad you're on board." As impulsive and reckless as the girl could be, there were certain constants to her character, one of which being the inexplicable joy she found in making others' days. But whereas Ruby did the same simply because it was kind and righteous, Yang cared for Blake to see her smile—an action born as much from selflessness as it was from selfishness. "That sushi place we went to is probably closed and there's always that pasta place we never went to and—Oh! We could probably have Weiss get us reservations for somewhere fancy!"

"If we're going to do that, then at least let me ask. I have a feeling she'll reserve us somewhere exorbitant if you try persuading her."

"Good point. You do that and I'll work on the present situation." Blake simply stared at her for a moment. "What?" Yang asked. "Don't tell me you were with the White Fang so long you forgot how Christmas works. I _know_ that isn't true."

"Sorry." Blake shook her head and smiled. "I've just never seen you this enthused about anything."

"Hey, I gotta pull out all the stops. This year's a big one."

"I'm sure it is." The Faunus paused for a moment, admiring her girlfriend's scheming eyes as visions of what was to come flashed through her mind. She could see themselves curled up in Yang's prized home theatre, a film on the screen and a book in Blake's lap as they huddled close together and kept warm from the outside cold. Perhaps a winter with her parents would be the safer option, but Blake did not care. She leaned down to capture her partner's lips in her own for a brief, sweet second, feeling Yang grin into the embrace, before pulling away to whisper, "So, what was that about a tide-me-over date?"

A wholly prideful, self-satisfied smirk spread across the taller girl's features. "Happy birthday, kitten."

Maintaining the grip she had on the gloved hand, Blake stood from the desk and pulled Yang to her feet. With synchronized wordlessness, the two simply smiled at each other before returning to Blake's prior table and gathering her belongings. The essay could wait and all those books closed without markers could be studied again, but Yang was here now. Every trial and frustration set before the huntress team was rendered insignificant by the strength they found together. In a way, this was indeed distraction and ruinous procrastination, but the Faunus had learned to prefer her heart's necessities over the wants of her motive. And as they carried her multitudes of heavy volumes out into the autumn snow, nothing else seemed to matter. They were returning home.

Simply by standing beside the warming Yang, Blake was sheltered from the tickling ice; and in much the same way, Yang was kept company by the steady amber eyes which stood out against glistening whiteness. Through each other, they became unbreakable. With each other, they could move and act as one. And although difficult times would come and pass in the subsequent two weeks until their departure, Blake and Yang would hold steady because they held each other.

* * *

The air was unnaturally still, brittle beyond its actual temperature. One could feel it their lungs, this silent draft from the window and the way it sapped air from each and every corner of Team RWBY's dormitory room. Even the edelweiss, hermetically sealed as it was between glass and silver frame, seemed to shrivel in its otherwise natural climate. But none of this was ever true. There was no cold, no draft, only the feared sensation of frigidity from the frosted window and the campus snow beyond.

Surrounding this monument of last summer's impossible flower were two other sterling keepsakes, picture frames too which immortalized their owners' smiles. In one, a caricature of naïveté and condescension reminisced upon a warmer, less complicated time, marking what should never be again. And in the other, a photograph shined beneath its daily polish, showing the same two in a state of idealistic happiness. Little freckles of sunlight danced across the pale girls' cheeks as they posed together before a wide oak—that had been such a warm day, such an inspiration for the two to always strive for.

However, a scowl now burned across Weiss' features, a forceful distraction from the chill she only imagined. Those summer days were long since gone and locked away in the past, making room for the next set of fickle circumstances and the challenges resulting from this unknown. Had she the solitude, she would have simply cowered beneath her blankets, wrapped in her pea and pajamas, to simply escape the solstitial draft. But she was not alone, and for this reason she sat on the edge of her bed, hugging herself for warmth and watching her leader pace.

It was an unnatural sight to see Ruby Rose this upset. With arms crossed in an unintended mimicry of her partner's frustration and brow knit tightly as she glared at nothing in particular, the young girl veritably pulled her hair out. She marched across the room, moving this way and that as she reluctantly came to terms with her partner's bad news.

Between those three silver frames was the heiress' personal scroll, glowing dimly with its troubling message. It hurt on two fronts, this disappointment. Ruby had seemed so enthused, so energetic as she always was when she first burst through the team's door, chattering nigh incoherently about her newest plans. She had taken Weiss' hands away from where her phone now lay, giving momentary reprieve from the then manageable cold, and went on about the team's second holiday in the city of Vale.

The way she had said "Christmas" was as though it were magic, perhaps the culminating prize for a year of hard work or a lifelong tradition she simply could not wait for. And she had wanted Weiss to join her. But seeing Ruby's expression fall so quickly strained every vow and sensibility the girl in white set around her.

"Ruby," she sighed. "There's no need to worry. All my father intends to do is talk and—"

"What do you mean there's no need to worry?" The young girl stopped and turned an uncharacteristically hurt look on her partner. "It's your dad, Weiss—your dad!"

"I understand. Believe me, I'm no more enthused about this than you are. But he made contact and expects me to respond in the positive, and there's no chance for me to shirk this. You must consider what would happen if I avoid him. Beacon, Vale, this," she gestured between the two of them, "would all come to a halt for me, that much is unmistakable."

"But you said you wouldn't be able to come back if he called you home!"

Resuming her pacing motion, Ruby clutched at her arms, trying her hardest to stay composed. It was a crime for her to even frown, let alone sulk as she did here, and Weiss would admit a pang of guilt for her pain. All she wanted to do was reach out and console the girl, divest her typical distance and simply explain her logic, but the moment required reverence to this pain. Between the cold and frustration, a compromise would only come across as impatient.

"You're right. I did," Weiss admitted. "But those circumstances assume he knows about our relation, which I don't believe he does. This, I believe, is one of the rare cases where his motive is immediately evident."

"What happens if he doesn't want to talk, though? What if he's tricking you?" A quaver broke the girl's attempt at skepticism. Fear had been evident for a while now, perhaps since Weiss had first denied her offer, but it was only now that the heiress could feel it in the cold of her spine. "Weiss…I don't wanna lose you. Maybe he knows you'll only come back if it sounds like he wants to talk. You said it yourself: if he tells you to stay, you'd have to."

She was right. Although arrogant and goal-oriented, Weiss was still a Schnee, which meant she was bound to her word—promises to her family, kingdom, and eventual leadership position. However, she had also made a vow to the young girl once upon a time, if only in her mind, to protect and support her no matter the cost. Admitting to this risk would only open a door to even greater fear, and fear was antithetical to what her vow upheld.

"I'm an adult now, Ruby. He could certainly try to keep me in Atlas—revoke my visa, pull my tuition—but if he does, I could certainly resist."

Thankfully, some form of progress seemed to have been made in her partner's expression. While the look of worry did not fall completely, the girl's gait had stumbled and her eyes had widened in brief surprise.

"I have enough money and clout to immigrate here if need be, and I'll reenroll in the school if he takes me out. But even then, I doubt he'd try something that direct."

"Yeah," Ruby whispered, "that's what I'm worried about."

Otto Schnee, head of the Schnee Dust Company and standing Lord Protector to the vacant Atlesian throne, was a difficult character. On one hand, he was like Weiss in the sense that he was meticulous and driven, but he did not suffer from the same temper and spite his daughter did. In this way, Weiss could not fathom his intentions. But Ruby was in pain, and this required a veneer of confidence.

"Well, don't worry. I'll find a way to be here for Christmas, one way or another."

Hopeful silver eyes shined upon the freezing heiress. "Really? You wanna come?"

Weiss smirked, if not for herself then for Ruby. "I never said I didn't."

"But you said—"

"Regrettably, my time in Atlas will cut into our time here, but if I work hard enough and move expeditiously—"

"Then you'll spend Christmas with me?" In a seeming instant, all the worry had drained from the young girl's features. "I mean, us?" she corrected, a sheepish, if not elated smile gracing her features. As much as Weiss abhorred the quality, naïveté had its uses.

With a nod, the draft in the room seemed to fade. An invisible energy poured from the girl in red, nothing like her sister's ever-present warmth but instead something of a stimulating, tickling variety—it was pure excitement, giving Weiss a difficult time in suppressing her wanted smile. As aloof as she was, as much as she hated general overenthusiasm, she had developed something of a sweet tooth when it came to her partner. No one would ever know this, of course, but it was true enough and Weiss was unabashed of her own satisfaction.

"Weiss, this is gonna be so awesome! We're gonna pick out the biggest tree, put up the biggest star, and get everyone the biggest presents! Oh! And I've never roasted chestnuts before, but I kinda wanna try since they sing about it all the time in songs and stuff, and I was hoping I could try it with you because—"

Weiss had to pat herself on the back. Although the situation was far from defused, at least Ruby was happy. It was a somewhat small step, admittedly, and mattered little to the sway of her responsibilities, but if she had learned anything this past summer, it was that these small steps had merit in their own rights. She did prize notable progress over the intricate processes behind it, but there was a novel charm to appreciating the little things. In this way, she was still yet worried and cold because of the message on her scroll, but she was also vicariously hopeful by way of her partner's cheer.

How she had come to date this girl was a difficult story. By no means was she enthralled by Ruby or her lacking social charms, but she did enjoy being around her from time to time. Despite her faults and aggravating quirks, she was, quite honestly, more tolerable than the entire student body at Beacon. Blake was a friend, sure, and a good confidante at that, but she spent far too much time with Yang and had become corrupted by her positivity. Ruby, although an endless well of energy, was consistent and careful. The reason why they had dated in the first place was, solely, to keep this positivity high against her unadmitted jealousy of what Blake and Yang held. But, even then, things got out of hand.

The "girlfriend" label was a misleading one for how they often interacted. In fact, Ruby and Weiss had become far better friends than anything else despite the handful of times they had gone on expressly romantic dates. The number of times they had kissed over the course of these five months could be counted on one hand, although they did make a conscious effort for pecks on the cheek at least once a week. But this was fine. They did not obsess over each other like Blake and Yang did, but they were nevertheless content with their station, leading to their generally standoffish affections and entirely fulfilling camaraderie where else there had been none. At the very least, they were happy with each other.

As such, Weiss could not defend herself from the smile now pulling at her lips. Ailing chills and preparatory consternation had melted away to her girlfriend's happiness and the resulting memories. She was, of course, a character product of structure and stress, but these little moments of joy Ruby shared were, themselves, joyful.

"Hello? Remnant to Weiss!"

The heiress blinked. An impatient Ruby had suddenly appeared before her, grinning widely and leaning over to press her silver eyes mere inches from her own. Weiss could feel hot breath against her lips and a resulting tingle race up her spine.

She pulled away and coughed, recomposing and leveling her expression to Ruby's audible amusement. "My apologies," she said. "I was distracted."

"You mean you were staring."

Weiss paused. Was Ruby teasing her? Moreover, did she even have the capacity to tease? Whatever the case, Weiss sent back a defensive scowl. "Incidentally," she contested. "And even if I had meant to—"

"Nah. You were _so_ staring." The increased annoyance in the heiress' look, although tooled to stop this very reaction, only caused the young girl to giggle. "It was kinda funny."

The glare persisted for but a second more until its owner hesitated. Indeed, Ruby had been teasing her, but this tease had done nothing more than state the truth—the girl meant no harm. It had taken some adjusting for the heiress to realize Ruby and Yang were incredibly different people—one meant harm, the other meant peace—and thus deserved different responses. In this way, she apologetically dropped her hostile look.

However, Ruby only returned this with more positivity. "Hey, c'mon Weiss! Don't sweat it! We're supposed to do that kinda stuff sometimes, right? I mean, it's not like we're doing anything weird. Looking's just looking, and I'm kinda glad it's me you're looking at and not—"

"Ruby," her partner regretfully interrupted. The girl in reference simply smiled, too enthused by her newly set plans to be brought down. "I'm sorry, but I really wasn't looking at you. I was just thinking."

The young girl laughed, awkward but not at all afraid. "Well, that's okay, too! Sorry 'bout the misunderstanding, though. It's just that Yang said…" Her words trailed off as she saw Weiss' expression. To the heiress, she had kept in her usual, equanimous state with no outward tells to her pessimism, but what Ruby saw now was something unusually emotional. "Hey, Weiss? I'm sorry. Didn't mean to say that."

"It's fine." The girl in white tried what she knew was an even expression, but this only came across as a cry for help. "There's no need to worry."

There was a moment of consideration on Ruby's part, moonlit eyes darting between Weiss' unease and the carpet between them, before she looked back up and frowned. "You keep saying that, you know? Like I have something to worry about. I mean, I did for a second there, but..." Again, she stopped herself. "Weiss," she asked, "is something wrong? I mean, are you okay?"

A snowy brow arched. "Of course," Weiss stated matter-of-factly. "Why?"

"I-I don't know. You just seem…off, you know? Like you're angry about something."

"Isn't that always the case?"

The joke had fallen flat as Ruby shook her head. "You _can_ get angry about stuff, yeah, but you always have a reason for it. It doesn't just come out of nowhere."

"Well, I can assure you I'm fine. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, though. I'll do better to compose myself next time."

A confusing look crossed the young girl's features. Ruby had the definite capacity for maturity and adamancy, but their existences were generally few and far between. Now, however, she seemed at odds with herself, specifically over Weiss' wellbeing. While the sentiment would have otherwise been met with gratitude, Weiss could not help but assume something was amiss.

"Ruby?"

"Weiss, seriously. Is there something wrong?" The girl looked at her, tentative yet assured, and seemed to press her point of support despite its recipient not knowing why. "You look like you just saw a ghost. I get why you're saying you're okay, and I don't think there's anything to be ashamed about if you aren't, but…Is there anything you wanna talk about?"

With a doubting sigh, Weiss looked away and reached out to the bookshelf. Her fingers were cold without their pea coat protection, but she was curious. What was Ruby talking about—she had seen a ghost? She took hold of the third picture frame and looked through its shine. Superimposed above her summertime grin was a positively horrified expression which vanished upon its discovery. "That's odd."

"Wait," said Ruby. "You seriously didn't know?"

"Know? Ruby, all I know is that my father expects me in Atlas for some indeterminate amount of time, after which I'll be returning to Vale for the holidays. That's hardly grounds for…whatever that was."

The girl in red released a breath she had been holding. "Well, that's a relief. I mean, maybe. Is you not knowing a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I'd hazard bad. Though, I'd rather not delve too deeply into it."

"How come? What if it's something really bad? What if it comes back and haunts you later? Remember what happened to Blake and Yang?"

"I'd rather not delve into it because I know I'll find something. It's likely I have some sort of psychological damage somewhere, considering my rearing, but I'd prefer not to learn any of it. I'm already aware of my narcissism, and that proved enough to change the way I present myself—anything more, and I'd have a soapbox. I don't want that."

Ruby nodded slowly. "Okay, but what if I wanna figure it out?"

"You could certainly try," Weiss admitted. "But what makes you think the information will be of any use? As I said, if you try to fix whatever that was, I might—"

"Yeah, I know." She took a deep breath and smiled. "But you're my girlfriend. If you're not feeling good, I help you out. That's just what we do for each other, right?"

"I suppose."

"Great! Then can I see that message your dad sent?"

Weiss looked at her skeptically.

"Promise I won't reply or anything. I just wanna look at it. You started acting weird after you read it, so I thought maybe there's something in it that caused you to feel sad all of a sudden." Her smile was steady and calm but proved unable to shake Weiss from her opposition. It was her scroll, after all, and held both personal and financial information which could be dangerous in the wrong hands. She did trust Ruby, but… "Hey, if you don't want me to, just say so. We can talk about something else instead if you want to. Or maybe we can see if Jaune's using his space heater or not."

At the boy's name, Weiss huffed. "No. Fine, you can read the message—but nothing more!"

For the briefest of moments, a look of eagerness flashed across Ruby's features before hiding behind a soft smile. Even to this day, it was hard to believe her enthusiasm was genuine and not the deceitful ploy Weiss had been raised to expect. But Ruby did mean to help and had always found satisfaction in assisting others. At the very least, Weiss trusted her—if not her, then who? With a sigh, she entered her passcode and handed the scroll over.

With an instinctual "Thank you," Ruby took the phone. In the process, her fingers had brushed against the heiress' and gave a thankful warmth to break her cold, but this was of no matter. The two kept their respective postures as both pairs of eyes focused on the screen.

Even from its upside-down projection, Weiss could not help but scan the message, too. Perhaps it was the fear her partner suggested or, more likely, her own proclivity for awareness, but even if Weiss had read the notice enough times to memorize each and every lording word, she still felt the need to keep her eyes on it. Her father's writing tended to have a threatening aftertaste and made her feel as though his words, themselves, could drag her back to Atlas. She worried for Ruby.

More than anyone else the heiress knew, her partner deserved to smile. She was just too kind—not innocent, not sheltered—to fall to the same battles Weiss had and too young to grow old. What she held in her hands was not maturity or causative cruelty but instead sharp directness—an unemotional, singularly construed letter written in terse terms. Weiss could handle it, and she quite honestly thought Ruby could, too, but there was always an edge to Otto's words, a cage to voluntarily enter and be surprised in whenever his trap was finally sprung. If she could have her way, he and Ruby would have never learned of each other. They would remain entirely ignorant for only the latter's sake. Ruby frowned.

"Sheesh. This is, uh, a pretty tough read."

"I know," Weiss agreed. "You can never argue against him because he always—"

"No, I mean, there's a lot of words I don't know." She seemed sheepish and unnecessarily so, scratching the back of her neck and avoiding Weiss' gaze. Despite the reaction, at least one thing was certain: the letter's intent had not fazed her.

Weiss gave a reassuring—and, admittedly, reassured—smile. "Well," she said, "why not start with the first?"

A light seemed to flicker in her partner's silver orbs. Initially, the idea came as a comfort to the apprehensive heiress, but as soon as this inspiration was acted upon, Weiss found herself retreating to her usual distance.

Ruby turned and plopped down onto the bed, invading Weiss' personal space and sitting unabashedly beside her. The addition of physical contact to their arguably successful relationship had always been a difficulty for the girl in white. Hugs and kisses needed time to be prepared for, lowering her guard and settling her still uncomfortable mood, but this sudden seating had been thrust upon her, leaving their shoulders contacted and knees mere inches away.

This was alarming. As such, Weiss moved gracefully to the side, leaving no chance for offense as she scooted over. But, to her horror, Ruby followed after with eyes trained on the screen. "Okay, so what does this first one mean?" She pressed her finger against the first larger word, accidentally highlighting it. "Plenipuh—Plenipoe…Pleni-po-tent-iary?"

"Plenipotentiary," corrected Weiss. "It means I'm on my own."

"Huh. Pretty big word for 'lone wolf.' Did he really have to use it?"

"It doesn't matter. Contextually, it's appropriate and the official title I hold within the company." Weiss shut her eyes in a silent wince. She had snapped at her. That was both childish and mean—she had agreed to a softer expression at the beginning of their relation, but had failed in this regard. Ruby deserved the same kindness she dealt. Weiss sighed. "I agree. It is excessive. But he can do much worse."

"Yeah, I bet!"

A smile was turned on the heiress, warm, amused, half a foot away, and not the least bit hurt. Ruby was by no means the most elegant person Weiss had ever met. She could be clumsy, awkward, as stubborn as her sister, but there was always something new to admire about her—little things to be sure, but anything admirable was welcomed when everything else was criticized. There was always something to her smile, something in the way her lips curled to eager points and how she did not know whether to bear her teeth or hide them. It told of youthful insight. It told of honesty. Her partner's frigid hand and continuous shivers halted without her knowledge as the subtle body heat of her company warmed the imagined draft.

Ruby gave a short cough of a giggle before looking back to the scroll. She knew Weiss had been staring and had even stared back for her own enjoyment, but only Weiss had blushed.

"And what about this one? Ess-chew?"

"Eschew," the heiress muttered, trying her hardest to recompose, seeing nothing but visions of her partner's silver moons.

"Eschew. Eschew. Eschew. Huh. I kinda like it! So, what? Is it like shirking? The way he says it, it's like you're avoiding something."

Weiss closed her eyes and swallowed. Ruby was her girlfriend and it was entirely appropriate to appreciate her. With a sigh, she looked to her, cheeks unfortunately burning but an otherwise calm line to her lips. "Almost. Shirk usually means to procrastinate while eschew means to deliberately relinquish responsibilities."

"Oh. So, you quit?"

"No. Far from it. I'm unable to attend to my businesses in any face-to-face way because of studies; therefore, he assumes I've given up entirely. However, he knows this isn't true but nevertheless tries to undermine me."

"Well, that's dumb. What kind of dad does that?"

"Mine."

There was not even a hint of regret in Weiss' tone. She did despise her father in very certain, thorough ways, but he was still family. Regardless of this apathy, however, Ruby seemed sorry. "Well, that's still dumb," she said. "My dad would _never_ say something like that. Just…that sounds mean."

She paused, looking over to her partner and finding only a blank, blushless expression. "Wanna talk about it?"

Without hesitation, Weiss replied, "No."

"Eh, it was worth a shot."

She looked back to the letter, enthused to some degree but lacking the same zeal she had shown before. Once again, an unintended somberness overcame the heiress, leaving her quiet and visibly upset. It is not to say she had memories of a broken home or abusive father—in her mind, those simply did not exist. Rather, this message in particular haunted her.

It had not been the wording which had stayed with her nor had it been the intention of the text, as she had put up with derision for as long as she could remember and had thusly calloused to it. What concerned her now was instead the timing of it, the suddenness that interrupted this newfound life at Beacon. Why now? Why not at the end of the last school year? Doubtlessly, there was a method to this disruption, a reason for its onset and a goal to its completion. And she knew this unambiguously because he, himself, had taught her how to think this way. But she could not help but feel as though something were off—she could not help but feel as though she were missing something.

That she was being taken advantage of, that she was being countered and defeated at every turn was, itself, surprisingly tolerable—a value learned from her time with Ruby. If she learned how to fall in this certain way and master it quickly, victory was all but assured by a figurative riposte keyed to her father's tactics. However, it was troubling that she did not know how she was being defeated. She did not know why or with what knowledge, but her father did have dubious cause. At the end of this semester, she would return to Atlas without argument and voluntarily pit herself against whatever traps he had set, but, unfortunately, Ruby had raised a good point. Otto Schnee could be lying outright and tricking his daughter, a trap to which she had no true escape.

Suddenly, the heiress' thoughts were pulled to a jarring stop. Planning ahead was well and good and would likely save her from whatever tricks she was yet to face, but something light and cold had feathered across her knuckles. She inhaled sharply at the normally unwanted action but soon relaxed at the silver orbs behind it.

"Weiss?" The younger girl's fingers snaked through her partner's, a chilling warmth causing her fist to close. Ruby squeezed back. "Are you really okay? You look…I don't know, tired? You look paler than usual."

Even though the cold was gone, even though the window was sealed tight and her coat was buttoned past its fashionable limit, Weiss could not shake whatever this was. The fingers helped, most certainly, as she focused on the small calluses and scratches from years of weapon work, but she yet shivered. The window felt open, her skin felt bare, and all those little taps against the window seemed to leave her frozen.

Ruby smiled as she scooted closer, keeping her hand in the heiress' lap. Her other, closer arm budged for a moment, considering wrapping around the smaller girl. But she hesitated. "Hey, it's okay if you don't wanna talk about it right now. We can just, uh, give it time. Yeah. But I still wanna help if you'll let me."

Weiss was silent, both by force of home and the willingness to wait for her conversational turn. Ruby looked down and blushed.

"If you don't want to talk, do you think we could…umm…I mean, do you think I could…eh. Geez, what am I saying?" She took a couple needed breaths and turned to her partner, face burning bright in spite of her half-assured look. "Weiss, would you mind if I just, you know, held you? For, like a bit—not much. Just until you feel better."

"No."

"O-Okay. That's cool, too."

They simply sat there for a moment, saying nothing. It was a safe bet to assume the younger girl's nervousness had since flared to a panic, judging by her wide-eyed expression. But Weiss, meanwhile, continued to absently toy with her fingers, not so much admiring the shape or texture of them so much as their existence. However, she could not help but feel sorry. In truth, she had wanted to answer yes, but she could not admit weakness. She had to remain distant to seem strong. This was cruel, and she knew it. Ruby deserved better.

With a sigh, the heiress closed her eyes. "I've changed my mind. Okay."

Ruby's posture became rigid, surprise scoring her shock. "Wait. You mean it?"

"I won't ask you again," Weiss said. "If you want to hug me—"

Before she could finish, her partner's arm wrapped around her shoulder. There was nothing forceful to it, nothing difficult; merely, the fingers between her own contracted as she felt herself pulled into the energizing form. It soon became apparent this was no standard hug but instead that which was employed by Blake and Yang and regularly derided for its excessive emotionality by this same girl in white. Surprisingly, however, it did not feel bad.

Someone was surely to blame for the heiress' head listing to the side and falling against her partner's neck; whoever it was, whether it was herself or Ruby, was fortunately safe for the time being. Effortlessly, all the cold in the room and all the worries surrounding seemed to melt away. Between the hand on her arm and the hand in her own, something solid was found. This was stable, unmoving, a boon to rest her head against. Were it anyone else, pain would be the only result, but it was Ruby—that beautifully present girl. With this in mind, Weiss gave in and smiled against her girlfriend's chest, letting titles prove their benefits and hands run their course.

Ruby smirked into her snowy hair, chin pressed softly against it so not to offend. "I'm gonna miss you," she admitted quietly. "I know it's still two weeks away, but it's already starting to hurt. Blake and Yang are probably gonna kiss every chance they get, and I'll just be waiting there, thinking of you. I know you'll do great with your dad and everything, because you always do, but…A couple days is gonna feel like forever."

"I know." With half her mind focused on the hand travelling between her elbow and neck, the heiress cursed herself for being so distant. She lived on facts and frankness, but Ruby needed emotion. Weiss shook her head. "I'll do my best to return as soon as possible."

Ruby giggled. "Well, take your time first! I mean, if you really are gonna come back—and I know you will—make sure it lasts. We don't want your dad catching on to us, right?"

"That's the ideal."

"Then that's that! Show 'em boss who's boss and come back home for Christmas. Easy!"

No, it was not. But both knew this already. "Incredibly. Nothing but routine."

"And get him to change your job title to something actually pronounceable. I mean, do you really go around calling yourself a 'plenipotentiary?' Nobody does that! Besides, you're not on your own anymore. You've got Team RWBY to back you up now!"

Weiss gave a quiet, honest chuckle. Normally, she suppressed these needless outbursts, but a laugh seemed justified for this situation. "I disagree," she offered. "You're the only one who has my back. Your sister and Blake are always off somewhere else."

All Ruby could do was smile. Whether this was pride, joy, or bashfulness, Weiss could not tell. The only thing she knew was that her partner smiled against her hair, lips pressed only incidentally against her scalp. It felt nice.

"Ruby, I promise I will return. Whatever my father wants from me, it can't be good. I have the same feeling you do now, that something is indeed amiss, but there's nothing to do except wait and suffer. Eventually, however, I will escape, be it by peaceful terms or by war, but the fact is that I will escape. I will return for the holidays after my business is complete, and you have my word. And you should know better than anyone—"

"That a Schnee always keeps her word," the young girl completed. "I know. You've told me like a hundred times already. But it's still pretty awesome!" The fingers between Weiss' own tightened excitedly and the arm pulled her closer. "I can't wait for the break, Weiss. I can't wait for you to come home."

Nothing more was said now that everything had been said. Some intermittent pain was to be expected, but for now and later, this simple peace would suffice and ease their worried minds. Weiss closed her eyes and let herself be held. The cold could not reach her so long as these warm hands danced across her hair. The north could not faze her so long as this arm blanketed her shoulder and existed despite its impossibility. Most importantly, Otto Schnee had little power so long as Ruby Rose held his daughter close. This was perhaps her greatest solace.

The late November air would hasten and freeze, sending unwanted flurries to patter against the dormitory window. The campus would wither to its blinding white sheets and the city would twinkle amid its lively, festive joy, but those wrapped against each other and those with their tea would brave whatever strife the snow had to offer. They held in their pairs, they held as a team, and though the following weeks of midterms and finals proved stressful in widely varying ways, they found respite in time spent together. Weiss with her unguarded satisfaction, Ruby with her unpracticed fluency, Blake with her bow untied, and Yang with an arm around her partner found peace to break the painful mold of lives spent fighting.

The snow would fall, the temperature would drop, and the world would plunge into a bleak midnight greyness, but Team RWBY had found their long-desired strength. After a year and a half, a trying, successful summer, and a union of four into a surrogate family of sorts, nothing seemed able to shake them. Synchronicity had been achieved and comfort had been admitted, and now the only pressures left were those yet to come. But the snow would fall, the temperature would drop, and the world would swallow them whole as they stood valiantly beside one another.

* * *

The most prominent difference between this story, _Valence_ , and _Edelweiss_ is the choice in perspective. Whereas _Valence_ focused on Blake and _Edelweiss_ on Weiss, this story will focus on both, switching between them when the moment is dramatically right. This is how _On Kaiser Island_ will be a simultaneous Bumblebee and White Rose story. I should admit, however, that the White Rose plot will have a bit more weight to it, but that's only natural when the title is _On Kaiser Island_. My personal preference is Bumblebee, but I will be working to give these pairs almost equal screen time. Just know that the first few chapters will rely more heavily on Blake and Yang.

Additionally, I strongly suggest reading _Edelweiss_ and _Valence_ if you haven't before and are curious as to how the couples came to be. _Edelweiss_ will probably be more helpful in understanding this story because it introduces Kaiser Island, Weiss' father, his relationship with his daughter, and the world they will be occupying. There is also a short primer for this story, titled _Black Ice_ , which introduces characters directly and gives a few names and words to look out for. You don't really _need_ to read any of these before continuing with OKI, but they might shed light on this story's future and past.

Updates for this novel will occur every month or so. Because the chapters, from this point on, will be above 20,000 words, they will take time to write and edit. Meanwhile, you can find updates on the chapters' progress on my Tumblr (found in my profile). I apologize for whatever waits arise from this story, but I promise the time will be spent polishing everything I can. Hopefully, this won't be a problem.

Thank you for reading. I have a feeling this novel is going to be a special one, and I'm glad I'm able to share it with you all. This is going to be a long journey, and I hope you'll stick around.

Stay safe and stay tuned.


	2. Chapter 2: Journey to the South

Normally, I like to release a chapter once every month. Unfortunately, that's not what happened here. I'm sorry about the wait and I hope it wasn't too much of an issue. To tell you the truth, I don't know if the next chapter will take as long; the real-life projects that kept me away are scheduled to haunt me this month, but I'll see what I can do. That said, I try to post updates on my Tumblr whenever I can, so that's a resource you can use if you're ever curious.

Now, there are a few things I want to touch on before we get back to the story. In the last chapter's end author's note, there were few things I forgot to mention, so I'll mention them at the end of this chapter—namely, forewarnings and clarifications as to what OKI is and is not. There won't be any spoilers.

There are also three clarifications I'd like to make here before we get started. Firstly, there's going to be a distinct Bumblebee focus to this chapter, simply by consequence. I can't say why without spoiling anything (your answer's in the chapter's second paragraph) but there will be a greater focus on Ruby than White Rose. White Rose is still an integral, perhaps even leading, part of this novel, but there is also a reason for it being postponed in this specific chapter. So, thank you for your patience.

Second, there was a guest review in the last chapter that brought up a supposed inconsistency. The reviewer noted that, in canon, the travel time between Beacon and Vale was fairly short whereas OKI stated that an airship ride could take eight hours. In what I'm calling the _Valence_ universe (Since _Valence_ was the first in this series), there are a few things changed about Remnant and its cultures in order to satisfy certain storytelling wants. Primarily, it comes down to everything being bigger. There are still four major cities on Remnant and nothing's radically changed from canon, but I did make Vale larger, I did give the possibility for satellite states (towns beyond Vale's cliffs yet within its walls), increased the probable populations, and, most pertinent to the inconsistency, established separation between Beacon and Vale.

This latter point came down to an assumed administrative (i.e., Professors Goodwitch and Ozpin) need to keep students focused on their studies. By some weird Dust magic, a barrier was erected to slow flight times between the school and the city, thereby dissuading students from leaving. This was established in _Valence_ , but I feel I should recap the fact here because it's going to come up again, if not soon. The main four combat academies are, in this story, different, and Beacon is the only one that separates its students from its closest city. That's one of the reasons why there's an eight-hour flight time.

Anyways, I've gone on for too long. There will be more clarifications in the end author's note, so stick around if you can. With all that out of the way, I'll leave you and chapter two of _On Kaiser Island_ to yourselves.

* * *

Chapter 2: Journey to the South

Vale was a city of life, a city of warmth. Even in this grey haze and cloudy frost, both the flow of traffic and the cars of passing families seemed to live in everlasting summer. Perhaps this was nostalgia, perhaps only a wish for duplication, but the fact of the moment was that Blake felt happy. This was her home, more or less, by love and heartbreak of months well-aged, and for this reason she smiled upon the cityscape, breaking her usual composure for tiredness and hope.

There had always been something about flying that threw her off balance. Much of this, she believed, had to do with airships' drowsy atmospheres, what with everyone falling asleep instead of conversing for the impractical eight hours. But this was fine. She felt rested after her nap with Yang, and the remaining other member of their team seemed to be in much the same shape. Weiss had a similar problem with flying, although hers tended to manifest more painfully. Headaches seemed common for the girl who, one would suppose, travelled a lot, but now there was no way of telling whether she hurt or not. Only three members of Team RWBY had returned to Vale, and at no point had they heard a single travel complaint.

Blake turned back to the limousine's cabin. Ruby sat alone on the bench directly facing her, hands crossed over a red metal suitcase. In any other circumstance, the girl would have hugged her packaged scythe, taking comfort in its lack of bag-check scratches and marveling at her past handiwork. But her adoration had long since faded—or, rather, shifted. Without Weiss, she seemed alone. She did smile, of course—as any good leader would—but there was no way to ignore the boredom in her eyes, the listless melancholy which resulted from an absent friend.

Fortunately, Weiss was here in spirit. Before parting ways with her then teary partner, she had told her team of "an early Christmas present." During the summer, there had only been one two-seater motorcycle in the sisters' possession, and this led to difficulty in transporting the group of four. Yang, of course, knew how to ride her Bumblebee and Blake did, too, to some unpracticed extent, but still Ruby and Weiss were left homebound. For this reason, the heiress called in a favor and made use of her family's assistants. A limousine had been provided for the summer as well as a staff of about seven valets. Now only a skeleton crew remained, but Weiss had nevertheless lent her snow-white limousine to Ruby by name—and, as she emphasized, not Blake or Yang.

Currently, the group of three was coasting along the city's highway, recovering after their flight and simply admiring the towering architecture as it passed. Ruby was quiet, silently disturbed but nonetheless understanding of her situation, while Yang watched her closely, an arm draped over Blake's shoulders.

This was home. The cabin's heaters whispered in their low, steady thrums and an unseen speaker uttered continuous festive tunes. Blake knew the song well enough and had even come to dislike it in its overuse, but, in the company of the sisters, it now felt appropriate. She wore a lighter version of her partner's jacket—a gift from a rainy day—and although its leather kept her warm and snug at its original owner's side, the fact that she and Yang matched made it seem like a gaudy Christmas sweater. In a way, her situation was incredible.

But this was not who Blake was raised to be. The White Fang had stripped every ounce of festivity from what soul she had left. And yet here she was, enjoying a rehashed song, dressed in matching jackets, and sighing into an enveloping arm—and she did so happily.

"So," Yang yawned, still waking up, "it looks like we're gonna get home around three, maybe sooner. I'm willing to do something later if you guys are up for it. Or, if you want, we can just take another nap and get carry-out somewhere. Either way, I want to get a game plan going."

Both options sounded genuinely appealing. On one hand, they would only have a few weeks to be at home, and the point of their waking up early and taking the first flight from Beacon had been to maximize potential opportunities. If they wanted to fully relax, it could be reasoned, then they would need to be active in their city experiences. But on the other hand: naps.

"Personally, I'm fine with either," Blake hummed. "Though, we probably should focus on unpacking first. Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves."

"Yeah," agreed Ruby, quiet yet audibly distracted. "Weiss'd say something like that. I think we should take things one step at a time."

The arm around Blake's shoulder tensed. This was not enough to hurt or even move the Faunus, but it was evident that Yang was concerned. "Well, yeah. Sure, I'm not debating that. I'm just saying we should figure out something to do before it gets too late. Know what I mean?"

The young leader's shoulders were slouched, eyes trained on a nonexistent point in the carpet, and weapon case held close to her chest. Although her smile and cheerful look would not betray her, it was more than apparent that Ruby was unhappy. Even more surprising, however, was the shudder that ran through Blake. The feeling was empathy, an understanding of where this yearning came from and prior experience with its torture. She and Ruby were not sisters beyond their surrogated titles, but, even still, the Faunus felt an almost primal urge to help.

"She's right," Blake said to her leader, uncertain of where her words were taking her but following them anyway. "We can focus on one thing at a time, and I agree with that to an extent, but we both know we'll be exhausted when we arrive. Having something else in mind will take your thoughts off Weiss. And if we can follow through with that something else, you might feel better." The Faunus smiled, now confident in what she wanted to say. "Weiss always says to keep a bigger picture in mind. Why not let the bigger picture be what we'll do later?"

"I…" Ruby paused. Hey eyes widened and her posture stiffened and, if one were to look close enough, gears could be seen spinning in her hopeful, thinking mind. "Actually, you know what? You're right." A new life seemed to spark in her smile. "That's totally what Weiss would say! Just figure things out as you go but keep moving towards one big thing." She nodded. "All right! Yeah, that works. Thanks, Blake!"

Admittedly, this level of enthusiasm was far from expected. Considering how Blake's past attempts at consolation had gone with Yang, she had expected to repeat the same point several different ways before one variation finally clicked. But Ruby seemed legitimately happy. To some degree, there was pride to be felt, but Blake's success was largely more confusing.

And, seemingly, her partner felt the same way. "Where in the world did _that_ come from?" Yang just about gawked at the girl on her shoulder.

"Blake's just smart like that!" Ruby chirped.

"Yeah, I know that already. But the point stands." Yang looked down to the girl beside her, a cross between surprise and amusement on her features. "It took you like a month to tell me something like that! And it took me even longer to get over it."

At the mention of her summer's failure, Blake's smile fell away. "I'm sorry. If I'd known what to do earlier—"

"What? No, no, no!" Yang interrupted hurriedly. "I didn't mean it like that." She sighed, shaking her head as Blake relaxed. "It's not your fault—you actually did great. I was just saying that I have no idea what you just did. It was like a magic trick or something! And here I am, acting like I know how Ruby works."

Fortunately, the only expressions surrounding the Faunus were of genuine warmth, one of a younger gratitude and the other of a now playful smirk. "I _so_ gotta learn how you did that. Teach us your ways, Master Belladonna!" Yang half-begged, lightening the mood instantly.

Ruby began to giggle. "Teach us, Blake! Teach us!"

The joke was unavoidable now, having been started by Yang and mimicked by her impressionable sister. But even if the teasing was to be at Blake's expense, she would allow it to continue. Ruby did miss Weiss, and if the Faunus could be the means to her leader's distraction and subsequent recovery, then she would gladly put herself at the foot of her team's fun.

The two began to bow, Yang with only her head and Ruby with the addition of Crescent Rose. It was needless praise, and yet it continued well past its necessity. Blake rolled her eyes. "Really, it was nothing," she said. "I was only trying to help."

"Teach us!" the two insisted. "Teach us!"

"Come on. Shouldn't we return to planning? It really wasn't a big deal."

"Teach us!" Yang intoned, voice dipping to a joking cadence. "Teach us, oh great and wise kitty cat! Teach us to be so smart and kind like you!"

Regardless of its benefit, this joke was getting out of hand; so much so, in fact, that a faint heat began to build at the Faunus' cheeks. "Seriously. Knock it off. I don't deserve this. I just wanted to do the right thing."

Then, all at once, the chanting stopped.

Ruby and Yang looked to her in a softer, more apologetic light. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say." Yang pulled her partner close, resting a black bow against her chest. "We were just messing around. Really, you did say something nice and it was pretty out-of-left-field for you, but that's fine. We'll stop with the whole goddess-worship thing if you want. Won't we, Ruby?"

"Yup! Sorry if we got carried away, though. Didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"No," Blake sighed. "No, it's all right. You're having fun. I just didn't think—"

"Hey, you deserved the praise." The blonde pulled away and beamed at her partner. "To be honest, I think you deserve all the compliments you can get. You're, like, the best girlfriend ever _and_ you took care of Ruby. What's not to love about that?" She then leaned down and hummed a long, smiling kiss against the Faunus' cheek, pushing her over by the force exerted and inspiring a similar mirth where unease had just been.

Unfortunately, this mirth faded just as quickly as it formed. From her happily slanted position, with Yang all but crushing her, the Faunus' gaze caught on a sight which started their troubles all over again. Ruby stared at them, eyes wide and introspective. She did not hesitate or dare look away, but her thoughts did stir and doubtlessly took her down a lonely, longing road.

Blake struggled free from Yang's grasp, trying to turn her attention to the problem at hand; but when she looked to her partner's usually perceptive lilac, she found an ardent ember burning for tonight. Flattering though this was, it did not help Ruby. For this reason, an elbow nudged the blonde as amber eyes flitted rightwards, signaling what was happening. However, Yang did not bother with her partner's stealth as she looked over, too, head whipping to the source of the moment's upset, and was taken aback by her sister's averting gaze. The arm around Blake's shoulder stiffened, as did the rest of its attached body.

Yang took a breath and mouthed an agreeable expletive.

"So," she drawled, sheepish and sorry, "game plan, right?"

Ruby sighed. "Yeah. Game plan."

This was bad. Blake had never known Ruby to be the sensitive sort—usually, her optimism let bygone matters go—but here she was, downtrodden and regretful. A fist clenched in the blonde's lap. This was not a failure on anyone's part, as Blake told herself, but it did sting.

"I was thinking about getting a quick lunch after we unpacked and then we could all go out for dinner to celebrate later." Yang was good at improvisation—great, even, when those she loved needed it—but she could never hide the fact that she was improvising. Her enthusiasm was clearly present, but it was simply not her own. "But we should probably take it easy today. I do wanna get our minds off this whole Weiss thing, but Blake's right. One step at a time."

The young girl nodded. "I guess so. But what about after lunch? What are we going to do before dinner?" She then stopped herself. For a moment, she seemed worried—by what, Blake could not tell—and was hesitant to continue on. But she soon gulped and steeled herself, continuing, "We're going to be downtown around that time, aren't we?"

"Actually—" Yang caught herself mid-correction. "Actually, yeah. Did you wanna to do something?"

The answer should have been an indifferent no if Blake's past experiences with disappointment were in any way relevant. But she was surprised to see another nod from the girl in red. "There's this…movie that came out that I, uh, kinda wanted to see. I mean, we don't have to go if you don't want to! I could try and get Weiss to take me when she gets back, but…"

"Which one?"

Silver eyes widened slightly—almost happily.

"What?" asked Yang, giving a genuine, warming smirk. "You wanna go to a movie; I wanna go to a movie. You wanna see a certain one; I don't really care because I'll watch just about anything right now. And, besides, it's not like I haven't heard about the one you wanted to see. I was probably the one to tell you about it in the first place."

It was apparent that Ruby had not expected this sort of acceptance. But, conversely, she also had, judging by the gradual relief now washing over her posture, because how could she not with a sister like Yang? "Well," she began slowly, ducking her head, "I wanted to see _Gunsport V_. I mean, we don't have to if—"

"Dude! _Gunsport_? You bet I wanna go!"

"Really?"

Although Ruby's growing excitement was a fortunate occurrence, being that it was another path away from her Weiss-less slump, there was a now slightly more pressing matter at hand. "Dude?" Blake quoted, almost critically.

The look she received was in no way penitent. In fact, the blonde seemed amused by her current situation. "Yup! Just a thing I picked up from Nora. It's kind of addictive to say!"

"That's what I'm worried about." She received an eye-roll—a wanted expression in the face of such unease but a tell of phraseological opposition Blake would no doubt deal with later. The Faunus turned to the younger sister, pulling out of Yang's grasp to sit upright and regarding Ruby with her best attempt at a smile. "Anyway," she said, "it seems we have a plan."

"We?" Ruby asked, eyes wide and growing hopeful. "You mean you wanna come, too?"

"Sure. I don't see why not. After all, I still need to stretch my legs, and I figure there's no better way to do that than by sitting in a theatre for two more hours." She suppressed her smile. Hopefully, Yang had enjoyed the joke, but, even more than this, she hoped Ruby had, too. If Blake wanted to keep her girlfriend happy, then she needed to help uphold the things Yang loved—namely, Ruby.

A few seconds passed of growing smirks and fruitless suppressions before Ruby finally cracked, giggling openly at the happiness around her. Certainly, this mirth had begun with Blake's joke—the absurdity of both it and its teller—but it was just as certain that this mirth moved onwards, away from the single source. She laughed because she could; she laughed because she felt genuinely happy. Weiss was not here, and this did weigh heavy, but she was surrounded by two other friends who cared for her all the same. Weiss would return inevitably, and this inevitability was key, but she could let herself laugh and stray from her doubts because Yang was here to love her and Blake stood by to help. Weiss could never be replaced in Ruby's mind, Blake believed, but, at the very least, she could feel comfortable in the hands of family while she awaited her friend's return.

Meanwhile, Yang had turned to her partner with a sly glint in her eye. "You did it again," she seemed to say. "How? Why?" These were simple enough questions—Ruby needed help—but Blake knew her partner did not care for an answer. This was admiration or, more accurately, amazement, and her focus had now left Ruby to shine only on the Faunus.

Her smile, her eyes, her warmth and her genuineness were all Blake wanted now. Being the center of Yang's world, being a hero for at least one someone after a decade of terror was enough to make a girl blush. And that was who Blake was—not a human, not a Faunus; not a huntress, nor a White Fang traitor; but a girl: a wanted anybody whose ears and eyes only made her herself. By helping Ruby, she was helping Yang. And by helping Yang, all the sins of a life long abandoned could be absolved. Amber caught lilac, one smile spurred another, and Blake's heart tried its hardest to beat free from her chest—and, frankly, she wanted it to.

"I love you," Yang whispered, leaning in and feathering the words against her partner's cheek. Blake could feel her smile, easy warmth and convictions in the lips against her skin. But the kiss was lighter than before, shorter and more conversational so not to alienate Ruby. As she pulled away, though, the same eagerness for care still burned in her eyes, and Blake smiled back.

This was to be the tentative end to the trio's thoughtful woes. Blake and Yang were happy to sit in silence while Ruby kept her focus on them, wistful, somewhat, but wholly safe. They were warm in this limousine of roaring heaters and background tunes as the world of grey and growing frost steadily passed them by.

Geographically speaking, Vale was the largest city on Remnant. Whereas Atlas and Mistral depended upon titanic walls to shelter their spatially limited capitals and states, Vale was protected by natural valley cliffs. As far as the eye could see—from Beacon to the bay, from one cliff to the other—land had been open for settlement and thereafter taken. Now stood vast stretches of lights, glowing businesses, and, in Blake's unfortunate case, highways that seemed to go on forever. It was as picturesque a city as one could find in this war-bound age. However, while Blake did enjoy looking out at the endless towers, squares, and busy, festive streets, the drive from one end to the other was simply horrendous.

Still, she was content to wait. With her head against Yang's chest and with Yang's head atop her own and with Ruby at the radio's dial, it began to look a lot like Christmas.

Admittedly, the holiday was still something of a mystery to the young Faunus. Indeed, she understood its expectations and ceremonies and had only missed two of its celebrations in the past, but she did not understand the overriding enthusiasm Christmas often spurred. Her parents were not particularly religious as far as she knew and the eight years she had spent with them could be characterized more by perennial attentions than expendable income, but she had nevertheless enjoyed Christmas whenever the season arrived. However, she had never enjoyed it to the same degree Ruby and Yang had. If she were to be completely honest with herself, though, she wanted to know how they felt. She wanted to be just as excited.

Aside from her decidedly uncharacteristic relationship with Yang and as well a lowered guard around friends, this last year had fostered noteworthy growth within Blake's character. Aloofness and suspicion had almost completely fallen away over her summer break, leading to a long-suppressed sense of adventure and an increased willingness to smile. Now, however, these developments pushed her further, urging her to experience a world she had never dared to know. Enthusiasm, camaraderie, satisfaction of her curiosity, and a chance to be normal were all within reach. She would try her best to enjoy this Christmas and see the world from the sisters' point of view, not because it was expected of her, but because she wanted to.

Unfortunately, there was still one giant obstacle left between Blake and her goal: Christmas. Having others spend money on her had always been unwanted. It disagreed with her aversion to attention and indebted her to an action she could hardly reciprocate. She did know Yang very well and could anticipate a near majority of her reactions to many stimuli; however, Blake did not feel confident in her gift-giving ability, even when the recipient was her own girlfriend. Her area of expertise rested in books and fictional literatures. Although she had forged her own weapon and knew how to tinker with its design, she still felt inadequately versed in both ballistics and mechanics—Ruby and Yang's respective joys.

However, it is not to say she was completely inexperienced with gift-giving, either. Every once in a while, as this limousine bounced against bumps and mars in the highway, a gold necklace would swing against Blake's cheek. During her visit to Sierra and in the early days of July, this shining chain and amber pendant had been given to Yang as a birthday present. Yang loved it—she had expressed this fact verbally, physically, and even through nigh consistent wear. Honestly, the jewelry had held no emotional value to Blake prior to its purchase, but seeing it now against Yang's chest made her proud of the choice.

But she would admit that this choice could be attributed as much to her as it could be to Weiss. She had been the one to pay for it, after all. "A favor in return," the heiress called it—a token of friendship, albeit an expensive and therefore disputed one.

Blake watched it bounce now, its golden luster shimmering beneath the outside's frigid blue. But this was all she could do. Staring at her partner's pendant and pressing against her shoulder was, truthfully, all she wanted to do. A hand was dancing across Blake's arm, up her back, through her hair, and to her bow. Then it went back down again. This easiness—this trance-like stillness—was what rest should always be. The Faunus knew that by smiling into it and allowing Yang to run her course, worries of Ruby and Weiss, plans of a still-to-do essay, and thoughts about her parents simply washed away. She could focus on Christmas now, Christmas and this present togetherness.

The limousine eventually shifted and a resultant movement caught her eye. The cars rushing behind Ruby tilted opposite the rest of the world, crawling upwards as the limousine drove down the final off-ramp.

The young girl smiled at the older couple. "Almost there. I can't wait to get home—can't wait for Weiss to get home."

"Yeah," Yang sighed, posture slumping. "It's gonna be nice. I think the first thing I'm gonna do after we get back from the movies is run a bath. Then I'm gonna sleep for a week." Ruby was a smart girl; she understood why her sister was avoiding the comment about Weiss. Still, there was a faint wistfulness to her forward-looking expression, something Yang wanted to rectify. "I get that we have to go to school and stuff and I know Goodwitch is being generous by giving us an extra week off, but can't we just, like, not go back and just sleep in all day?"

Blake smirked. "You mean go AWOL?"

"Eh. Po-tay-to po-tah-to. All I know is that I don't want to wake up at five every Friday."

"Knowing you, eleven would still be too early."

"Har har. I know you don't get the whole mornings-are-evil thing, but you gotta admit there's a big difference between five and eleven." Blake shrugged at this, earning Yang's laugh.

Seeing her teammates joke and grin, unmoved by the lack of Weiss, Ruby began to relax. Regardless of how romantically attached she was to the heiress—or, rather, how romantically attached she was allowed to be—there would always be an underpinning care for her partner. Foundationally, they were friends. Dating only augmented the support and cheer she gave. Moreover, her present fear was not the same as Blake's—if Yang were somehow gone, Blake would want to see her safe for both her own assurance and as well as Yang's safety. Ruby, on the other hand, seemed to want Weiss' safety only for Weiss' sake. Whether this was a fear of being assertive about what she wanted or, more probably, a genuine selflessness inherited from her sister, Blake was nevertheless proud.

She paused. Proud?

"Yang?" Ruby began again, releasing her protective hold on Crescent Rose. "Thanks. And you, too, Blake. I know it's gotta be pretty awkward bringing me along with you. Kinda feels like I'm a third wheel, to be honest. I mean, I like hanging out with you guys, but if you ever need some time alone…"

Yang shook her head. "Nah, it's fine. We're all friends here. Just 'cause Blake and I are doing stuff doesn't mean we don't want you coming along. Actually, I'd kinda prefer it while Weiss isn't here just so you aren't hanging out at the house by yourself."

Silver eyes turned Blake's way. There was something pleading to their normalcy, a shadow of a shadow of fear. She wanted Blake's assurance in addition to Yang's, and the former could not fathom why. Nevertheless, Blake found herself smiling in response. "You're not a third wheel," she said. "You're a sister and a friend. We like having you around."

Yang emphasized, "And aren't we supposed to be celebrating Christmas _together_?"

"Ruby, this is a group effort, and if Yang or I ever act like we want to be alone—"

"Except for the times when we _want_ to be alone."

"—then I apologize. That's not our intention. As long as Weiss isn't here, we'd be happy to bring you along with us."

"Yeah! The more the merrier, right?"

"You don't need to seclude yourself for our sakes. I know what that's like, Weiss knows what that's like," and even Yang knows what it was like, "but you shouldn't have to shoulder that pain. We're friends. If you want to hang out with us, then hang out with us. It's not that big of a deal." Blake attempted the warmest smile she could, catching Ruby's gaze and holding it.

Yang joined her soon after, leaning her head against her partner's, cheek pressing against blushing cheek, and grinned. She said nothing and, honestly, needed not have. Ruby's expression had already shifted by her teammates' words and began to coil into a considering frown.

Her sister had always been the emotional sort despite her reluctance to show weakness. Indeed, Yang was the strongest person Blake knew by a wide margin, but she was not without fault. Ruby would always be her weakness—or, more specifically, the fear of Ruby moving on—and this had changed last summer to include Blake, too. Protectiveness was the cause, yet love was its root. In much the same way, Ruby seemed vaguely protective of Weiss. She would not go out of her way to keep Jaune from flirting with the heiress (in fact, she often sided with him mirthfully), but she did strive to keep a smile on her girlfriend's lips and a want for relaxation within her tightly-wound mind. Whether this was love or simply Ruby being Ruby was still indeterminable, but the fact that she held the same care for Weiss as she did Yang—and, perhaps, even Blake if her slowly building smirk meant anything—was a testament to their friendship.

A quiet, explosive laugh finally erupted from the girl in red. She shook her head and looked back to Blake and then to her sister. A happy energy physically radiated from her now, lessening the blush on the Faunus' cheeks and raising the warmth of the blonde's aura. "That was a bad joke, Yang. Like, real bad."

This was certainly a reassurance. Ruby doubtlessly knew she was in welcoming company and, knowing her, this thought would remain until proven otherwise. Yang, however, seemed confused.

"Bad…joke?" she asked, head pulling away. "Wait. The more the mer—Oh. Right. That. You know, I'd usually try to own up to a bad joke and say I totally meant it, but that wasn't even a good sort of bad. That was just _bad_ bad."

Ruby giggled, sincere and sufficiently distracted.

Hearing this fortunate noise and knowing that its maker was recovering gave the Faunus cause to smile. She laughed, too. Together, she and Ruby laughed at Yang's joke and façade of upset. Honestly, they all needed something like this right now. In light of Weiss' absence, Ruby needed to be reminded that she had other friends, Yang needed to see her sister happy, and Blake needed to be her girlfriend's partner. By helping Ruby, Blake was insuring this present team would remain together.

In their collective ease, the final minutes between the airport and the sisters' home felt like nothing at all. The maze of towering, mirrored walls gradually simplified, becoming strip malls and local-business plazas as the city faded to suburb. Traffic decongested, visible crowds lessened and scattered, and, somehow, the grey haze of frost finally moved the Faunus to awareness. It was winter now. As the suburbs faded and businesses moved apart, the green-brown grasses withered beneath frequent evergreens and their sickly barren brothers. Although the warmth of emotion and the heat inside this cabin served to comfort the girl in black, this southern cold seemed oddly daunting. She knew it was nothing to be concerned about, but this was not the Vale she had known from her summer months.

However, the limousine began to slow into this journey's penultimate turn, revealing the lonely plot of land which could only affirm Blake's hopes. Ruby's eyes brightened similarly. Away from all the rush and busyness of Vale's capital city, a terminal street strayed along the valley's southern forest and, eventually, a white picket fence.

The cabin shook. Asphalt turned into crunching, frigid gravel as what little sun there was flashed beneath the entrance tree line. But as this initial shock settled, the sisters began to move. Ruby placed her packaged scythe in the seat beside her while Yang's arm withdrew from her partner's shoulder. Blake, on the other hand, turned to look out her window at the nearing building.

It was a land in a valley, in a forest, in a clearing, tucked away from all the city's bustle and so too the country's ease. With fields of unmowed grass and tree-lines to either side, this single-story ranch house stood out and spurred Blake's smile. There was the porch upon which she had once heard cicadas and there was the door through which many adventures were had. One garage and a dirt path, picket fences and white oak siding caught the young Faunus' breath and held it until her heart raced. This was it—this was home. They had arrived and she was happy, quietly and composedly but nevertheless thrilled.

When at last the limousine stopped on the driveway before the front porch, so too did the remnants of Team RWBY. They simply watched the house, each other, and made no move at all as they let out a tacit sigh. "We did it," Yang and Ruby seemed to say. "We did it and we're all right."

Blake's bow twitched as the driver's door opened. A figure suited in black and white, tall and greying, stepped out into the brittle winter without a moment of pause. He was fortunate to be from Atlas right now, fortunate to favor this cold; but Blake was fortunate, too. After all, she was dating a living, breathing space heater. She proved especially grateful when the cabin door was opened, letting in a rush of prickling air and the deafening quiet of Vale's countryside.

Weiss' assistant said nothing as he held the door open, allowing Ruby to lead her team. "All right, guys. We made it." She shared a smile with her sister and then her friend. "Let's get moving."

All at once, Team RWBY disembarked from the lent transportation, leaving behind the warmth of roaring heaters and Christmas tunes for a single, whistling breeze. Blake and Yang were the first out, stopping along the way to thank the driver despite having never received so much as a glance from him. Ruby, however, was charming. Although these assistants had, historically, proven just as distant as Blake expected from a Schnee, the young leader somehow convinced the man to give her a high-five. Seemingly, they had been acquainted.

He then closed the door, moved to open the limousine's trunk, and returned to his seat.

The three simply stood in place for a moment, weathering the surprisingly manageable cold and looking up at their destination. "Well, home sweet home," Yang sighed, laughing quietly to herself. "To tell you the truth, I'm still a little out of it, but, if we still want to go to the movies—"

"Which I do!" interjected Ruby.

"—then let's get this done." Warm but definitely tired lilac eyes turned Blake's way. A smirk and raised eyebrow was all the Faunus needed to understand the unspoken question. She nodded as Yang put her arm around Ruby.

As the duo began to climb the few steps up to the porch, Blake turned back to the trunk. To be honest with herself, she was excited to be home. Admittedly, she lacked a strong reason to be this happy, but she had trusted Yang when she said this Christmas would be "a big one." By thinking about these three weeks, she was enthused enough to lift the sisters' bags along with her own. It was a selfless act to help, and she figured it would only add to the seasonal cheer.

However, once she closed the trunk, her gaze was caught by a movement behind the limousine's tinted glass. Blake could not be certain, but she was pretty sure the driver was staring at her, an unreadable expression on his obscured features. Just as quickly as the shadow came to her attention, he turned back around.

Blake's immediate response to this was defensive anger. Weiss might have already proven herself open-minded and tolerant, but she was only an exception to the Schnee rule. This man was no threat by himself, but the family he worked for certainly was. However, Blake kept composed. In the case that he had merely been checking on her with his usual uninterested look, she decided not to risk stooping to his assumed level. Instead, she stepped away from the vehicle with three suitcases in hand, sighing in frustration, and joined the sisters at the top of the porch.

Yang stood with her back against the doorframe, reaching into her jacket pockets in search of her key. After that last moment of possible threat, Blake found herself slowly relaxing to a sight which reminded her of last summer.

"Aha!" Yang said at last, pulling a nickel key out. "That's probably a record for me, huh?—Oh! Right." Confused, Blake watched as her partner turned to the limousine, shouting, "Hey! Dude! Give us, like, thirty minutes! We're coming back out!"

The headlights flashed once in response. Perhaps the driver meant the best, after all.

Yang smirked. "All right." She put the key in the lock, turned, and opened the door, shifting her expression towards her teammates. "Ladies," she offered. Blake rolled her eyes.

Upon entering the foyer, the Faunus was met with a rush of reminiscent warmth. When Yang locked the door for the final time last summer, she had then punctuated their shared vacation and all the adventures they underwent. Now an almost balmy humidity welcomed Blake back, making the darkened living room and subsequent hall seem eager for her return.

But while Blake wrapped herself in pangs of nostalgia, Ruby's expression faltered. The fist around her weapon case tightened, eyes cast downwards, and a realizing sigh left her lips. Blake felt for her, she really did, and would have reached out and done…something. But Yang got to her first, closing the front door and putting a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"You all right, sis?"

Ruby began to nod but stopped herself quickly. "No, I'm fine. Just…"

In spite of this negativity, Yang was able to smile—a valuable quality that made the lives of her teammates so much easier. "C'mon," she urged. "Let's go sit down, take a break." Although this had been stated and perceived as a deniable offer, the way she guided the young girl forward made it apparent that disagreement would have been unacceptable. She meant the best but would not leave Ruby's wellbeing to chance. Her smile turned to Blake.

Half encouraging, half amusedly exasperated, the Faunus responded in kind. "I'll put your stuff away. We're still rooming together, right?" An honest light burned in Yang's eyes as she nodded. That was a relief. Blake offered the two cases she held, the outermost being Ruby's, which the blonde took. However, the Faunus held her hand there for a moment, conveying silent support. Whether it was a promise for eventual backup or a "You'll do fine," was hardly consequential; what mattered was that Yang understood.

With one hand holding a suitcase and the other now rubbing her sister's back, the girls of gold and red began to move through the house, the former speaking quietly and the latter listening almost obediently.

"Give it time," Yang whispered. "I'm not saying you'll get over it, but you will get used to it." Despite Blake's better hearing, the conversation faded as the sisters left her for the hall across the way, entering darkness and heading for Ruby's room. Even if Blake had recently reconnected with her parents, spent her entire childhood among traitors of a similar cause, and been accepted into the surrogate family of Team RWBY, she had never seen a stronger bond than that between these two. They were their own family, regardless of parental troubles. And Blake was happy for them; they deserved to be happy considering all they did to keep others strong.

However, the girl in black soon found herself alone. Fortunately, she was by no means lonely; rather, she was relieved—relieved to have a moment to breathe, relieved by a chance to stretch her legs. Relieved to be home. The entryway tables were still to either side, living room ahead, kitchen to the right of there, and home theatre opposite that. It was strange, but she felt free to have recalled this information—not in the sense of freedom she had once fought for but the sort of freedom that lacked responsibilities. She wiggled her ears; the bow would come off.

The sisters' home was, as one would expect, broken-in, but it was also surprisingly clean. Ruby's mother, a purportedly accomplished huntress and formative role model to Yang, had been gifted this plot of land by the city at some point before her departure. This was where Yang and Ruby had spent their earliest childhood years. And once school became their lives, it became their home away from Patch during the summers. Why they had not stayed with their father was still a mystery to the girl in black—though, she did assume there was a fracture in the family which she did not want to investigate—but the fact is that this building was, for all intents and purposes, Yang's. However, because it was built by the woman she aspired to be, she would never leave it in the same state as her dorm room. The house was clean, exact, and familiar.

As such, the Faunus moved gingerly—so not to disrupt anything with the bags she carried—yet easily as was natural to her. Everything from the carpets and the fixtures, respectively darkened by rare stains and dust, to the markedly un-Yang furnishings and paint choices made this place an artifact. But it was home for Blake, too. Thus, she knew where all the stains were, recalled stories of tracked mud and faulty wiring, and carried newer memories of her own experiences. At one table, she remembered talking to Weiss about the ramifications of her then-new relationship with Ruby. At another, she remembered apologizing for her past life in the early hours of the morning. But, most of all, she remembered where Yang's room was, where her own room had been, and how these two places had become one.

She entered the same hall as the sisters, walking slower than usual but never once minding her pace. The first door was that to Ruby's room. It was open and revealed two figures sitting on the first level of a bunk bed, the younger's head held close to the elder's chest. Something was obviously wrong, but Blake had faith in Yang.

The Faunus allowed her teammates their moment as she continued on, stopping at the second and final set of doors. To her left was a guest room—her guest room at one point in time, but she had since been promoted from "guest" to "girlfriend." And to her right was both her and Yang's room. She smiled and pushed this second door open.

Although Blake had said she would put their belongings away, she simply set the suitcases down beside her partner's closet and turned to the room's central bed. White linens, oak frame—it simply did not seem like Yang's. But it was comfortable, and she found herself falling face-first into it. If the house could be un-Yang, then she could be un-Blake.

She let out a long, tired, quiet, and altogether reserved sigh into the comforter before rolling over and staring at the ceiling. She felt like acting out, being unabashedly gleeful at the fact that she was here—in Vale, in the countryside, on Yang's bed! But she kept her frown. It was quiet now, no engines or traffic to quiet the ringing in her ears, and life stood still. She had an essay to write, a movie to see, and owed her teammates birthday outings, but none of that mattered right now. She was content to just lie there on her partner's bed, contentedly frowning at the darkened overhead light and toying with her bow.

Blake Belladonna was never the type to give up. She was not as goal-driven as Weiss or idealistic as Ruby or fearless as Yang, but she knew what was right. Presently, the right thing to do was to fulfill her assurance of putting things away and making sure everything was in order. But all she wanted to do now was rest. Yang was getting to her; procrastination was on the mind. They could all unpack after the movie while Yang ran her bath and Ruby figured out what to eat. It would have been more respectable to unpack now and get it out of the way, but Blake was not Blake right now. She wanted to take a day off for once and smile and laugh and hold Yang close and simply enjoy herself. Unpacking never came to mind. She tugged on her bow.

Today, she was not a Faunus or White Fang escapee. Today, she was Blake Belladonna: regular person and member of Team RWBY. With her ears now able to breathe, a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders; she could be herself today and hear every sound in the house.

Yang and Ruby were still with each other, talking softly but making slow progress. More than anything else at the moment, this was truly a pressing matter. Blake sighed again, stretched atop the shared bed for a longing moment, and then sat back up. Yang could doubtlessly take care of Ruby by herself, and Blake knew this well, but there was something in the Faunus that compelled her to help. Ruby was her friend, her girlfriend's sister, and veritable family at this point; she deserved whatever help she needed. As such, Blake stood and walked across the hall.

"Look," Yang said, now sitting independent of her sister, "it's gonna be rough. I won't lie about that. But it's only for a few days—and you guys have your scrolls. If you really miss her, just try calling tonight."

"But Weiss doesn't like people calling her."

"But she likes you. Even though she's kind of a jerk to everyone else, I know she misses you just as much as you miss her."

"How do you know?"

"Well, who wouldn't? I know I'd want to hear Blake's voice if I missed her. Little things like that make the bigger things easier. And I have a feeling that if you call her tonight—or even when we get back—she'd be happy to hear from you."

Ruby hummed, unconvinced.

The sight Blake arrived upon was, although affirming of her suspicions, heartwarming. Yang sat beside her sister, examining two silver picture frames while Ruby held a third. These were pictures of last summer, pictures of the young leader's absent relationship, and, most importantly, pictures of Weiss.

Blake rapped against the doorframe, earning one frown and a smirk. Yang waved her in, only glancing at the lack of bow. Silently, so not to interrupt the conversation, the girl in black approached the bottom bunk. She would have preferred sitting next to her partner and sharing in her warmth, but, because the blonde was on the far side of Ruby, Blake chose to sit beside her leader and aid in the comforting effort. She had never been expressly affectionate towards the girl, only receiving hugs from her while not once giving them, but now the moment seemed appropriate to do something friendly. Blake threw unfamiliarity to the wind and sat as close to Ruby's side as Yang did. She could see the photograph of Weiss.

"What I don't get is why I'm acting like this," said Ruby, voice no more than a sigh. "Like, I know she's coming back and I know she's probably doing all right. But I'm still worried about her, and I don't know why."

Taking a breath, Blake followed her instinct and interjected. "It's because you like her. She means something to you, so you'll hurt whenever she hurts."

"Yeah, I guess."

"And that's a really good thing," Yang said. "I mean, don't get me wrong; the princess and me still have a ways to go until we're squared away on what is and isn't best for you. But everyone needs a friend, even someone like her."

"Ruby, I know for a fact that Weiss misses you. If she didn't, why would she lend you assistants? Why would she openly hug you in front of all the other students? She might not act like it, but you mean a lot to her."

"You think so?" A sad smile played across the young girl's lips. "I mean, do you really think she can miss me with all that other stuff going on back at her home?"

"Are you kidding me? Dude, of course she misses you! Girlfriends or not, you guys have spent a year and a half together, nonstop. That's not the sort of thing you can walk away from without a scar." Yang paused, blinked, and corrected herself. "And I'm not saying she's walking away. I'm just saying she's probably used to being around you, and all those snooty friends she has in Atlas are going to seem weird now. They just can't compare!"

"But…" Ruby shook her head, putting a thumb over the picture to hide her own photographed face. "But she said she doesn't have any other friends. It's just us, Yang. She's alone—lonely."

This was never about Ruby, at least not in her mind. The girl did show signs of longing and fear, but these apparently paled in comparison to what she thought Weiss was feeling now. Yang sat back and nodded, having nothing to say but trying her best to do something helpful. Regardless of Ruby's insistence otherwise, she obviously felt terrible.

The older two shared a look. "What now?" the blonde seemed to ask.

Despite the sisters' talent for consolation, they had the tendency to be stubborn when it came to each other's wellbeing. Yang, always sunny and strong, refused to admit weakness in front of her little sister. In her mind, anger and irrationality were preferable to insecurity. This left Blake and, to a coldly lesser extent, Weiss to take care of their partners. But although the sisters were, well, sisters and showed more than a few similarities in their personalities, Blake only knew how to console Yang—a hug, an airtight logic, and a promise. Ruby was different. In fact, Blake had to admit that she did not know how the girl operated.

Still, she would try, not only for Yang's sake but for Ruby's. The same odd, prideful feeling she had felt before welled up again. However, this was no longer a happy feeling by any stretch of the imagination; it was sympathetically sorrowful, a genuine want to see her leader feel better. The Faunus gave her partner a reassuring smile and turned to Ruby.

"Hey," she began, pulling her leader's inquisitive silver orbs. "It's going to be all right. If there's anyone who can talk her way out of a tough situation, it's Weiss. She's not fighting anyone, she's not arguing anything; it's just business for her. And you know more than I do that she has a way with negotiations. Even if something bad happens, you know that Weiss wouldn't dare to let failure keep her from you."

"But what if she loses and can't come back?"

"Lose?" This piqued a raven brow. "What makes you say that?"

Ruby shook her head. "Nothing."

"Well, if I know Weiss correctly, then I know she'd never let someone else change her plans. If she means to return, she _will_ return. Her father can't change that, her company can't change that, and even you can't change that. And, besides, she gave you her word."

Seconds ticked by and nothing was said. Fortunately, this did not seem to be a fretful silence; this was deliberation and understanding at work. Slowly, a slight upward curl formed on the line of Ruby's lips. "Yeah. 'A Schnee always keeps her word,' right?"

Seeing that the moment now allowed for some amount of positivity, Blake took a chance and smirked. "That _is_ something they say, yes. And, honestly, I'm inclined to believe them." At one point, these processes of socialization and friendship had been foreign to the young Faunus, but now, after last summer's troubled necessities, they had become almost gamified. Certain inputs received certain outputs, and there was always a way to cause an effect—it was all like the propaganda she read and wrote.

Sending a smile Yang's way, Blake left the bed and knelt before her leader. Having this unhappy girl look physically down at someone and find comfort in doing so would renew her confidence. This had worked for Yang, and Blake figured it might work for Ruby, too. She took hold of her leader's hands, lowering the picture frame and catching her gaze.

"Here's what we're going to do," she said, finding her wording and feeling just as confident as she appeared. "We're going to go to the movies, get your mind off things, and just relax for a moment. I don't doubt that you miss Weiss, but some amount of this stress might be fatigue. Then, once we get back, you _are_ going to call her. It doesn't matter if she talks or even picks up the phone, it will still mean a lot that you bothered calling." A slight widening of the girl's eyes pushed Blake to amend, "And if you don't want to be the one to call, then I'll start. After all, I need to finalize the reservations she's been making for Yang and me, and, once that's taken care of, I can hand the phone off to you. I'll get her talking and you can take over from there. Does that sound good?"

Ruby's eyes continued to widen, no longer out of fear but instead of rising glee. She nodded eagerly and the hands in Blake's own were wrenched free. Suddenly and without warning, Ruby threw her arms around the Faunus, pulling her upwards into a hug and squeezing with the enthusiasm only her family could. As Blake began to reciprocate, she noticed that a warmth had enveloped them, one part out of proximity and another because of Yang. When she looked over Ruby's shoulder and at the blonde, she saw a girl on the verge of laughter.

"Good job," Yang mouthed, punctuating this with a wink.

Blake simply rolled her eyes in response.

It must have been a funny sight—the girl who thought herself unapproachable being openly kind to the girl who lived without obstacle. But, despite the oddity, Blake was happy to help. Some part of this assistance was her means of letting loose, stepping beyond her comfort zone and behaving like a normal, caring person. However, something about seeing Ruby in pain had hurt, and it only seemed right to lend a hand. They were family to some tenuous extent, and Blake never had a little sister. It just seemed right to hug her.

The three would eventually laugh about this whole situation, poking fun at Blake's degree of change and, subsequently, Yang's inability to help her own sister. But the absence of Weiss could never be completely forgotten. They all missed her, worried about how she was faring in cold, cold Atlas. Even Yang, as uncertain still as she was about her sister's relationship, seemed to make fun of the heiress far more frequently, perhaps as a means of coping.

But the three did have each other and would be happy enough to spend their time in this unusual configuration. It had gone unstated between Blake and Yang that Ruby's happiness was now their priority. Whenever Weiss returned, they could leave the younger couple to their reconnections and go on the dinner dates they had been planning for months. But until then, they would spend their time with Ruby and keep her company. Indeed, Blake's show of support had not gone unnoticed by the blonde, and the Faunus knew she would be rewarded for it, whether she cared to be or not. But that was not the point right now. The point was Ruby and taking her to see the movie she had been looking forward to all day. The point was teamwork, togetherness. The point was to reassure Ruby that Weiss was all right despite a lack of evidence.

* * *

One could almost smell the musty sound of these creaking walls—dust and dirt and the death of an era. The Fringes were famously inhospitable lands, contested by the scorn of Vale's protectorate and the fury of the Grimm. However, this miserable shack, small and corrugated though it was, seemed to have once been alight with honorable virtues and tenacity. Those who lived here had survived longer than expected, leading happy, bitter lives outside the kingdom's walls. It had been a quaint, undisturbed life. A cough broke the silence.

"Dad…" A man in tattered rags hurried over to a haystack bed. He crouched, taking hold of his sickly father's hand. "Save your strength. It'll be warmer tomorrow. Just wait and see."

"N—" Every cough seemed to rattle the floorboards. "No," the older man managed. "No, it's…it's my time."

"Don't say that!"

"It's true." Taking a few breaths, the older man's raspy voice calmed a bit, making his enunciations clear and pressing. "I've gone on for too long like this. Your mother always saw it; she knew I'd never let time take me. But here I am, running to my end."

Tears welled in his son's sparkling blue eyes, running down his high cheek bones and to the point of his sculpted jaw. It was all too much. "But…What am I going to do now? We haven't finished our training!"

"You know what you'll do. You've known it all along." Reluctantly, his son nodded. "Avenge your mother. Avenge your sisters. Take pride in our family's history and bring your brother back." The old man squeezed his hand, blue eyes looking into blue as he pleaded, "You can do this, Lazer. You've learned well."

"I can't do this without you," Lazer said.

"You won't have to." With his other hand, the father motioned to the far wall. "Take it. It's served me well, and I know you'll get your brother back with it. Please."

"But that's your gun. _Your_ gun! I can't take _your_ gun."

"It's yours now."

"No!"

"It is. You've earned it, Junior. You're the best gunfighter I've ever seen, and I want you to have it." Another coughing fit interrupted the old man's speech. "Please," he wheezed, gripping his son's hand with both of his visibly fragile own. "For your sisters. For your mother."

Lazer tried to hold himself together, tried to accept the reality of his father's coming end, but all that he managed was a hateful, whining growl. "For you."

His father smiled. "Thank you. You'll do well, son—you always have. I know your mother would be proud of you. She always was, and that's why you need to get your brother back. He's all the family you'll have left and—" More coughs, more blood. Tears ran down the old man's cheeks. "I love you, Lazer. You've been— _ah_ —a great son, a g-great f-friend. Just rem…Just…Just remember…Th-they're not clips…they're…they're magazines."

The orchestral score settled and all that could be heard in the theatre's speakers were plaintive growls and choked whimpers.

Perhaps it was best not to laugh. Perhaps Blake really was out of touch with humanity and what they considered poignant. Perhaps, although most likely, she had simply inherited her mother's barometer for literature. This was by no means a sad moment—the acting was fine, but who could take a moment seriously when the characters were named Lazer Rockard and Lazer Rockard Jr.?

However, to the film's credit, Yang and Ruby were tearing up.

Seeing as how the sisters—and, for that matter, the rest of the packed theatre—had been consumed by emotionality, munching all the while on the popcorn in younger's lap, Blake felt bad about smirking. She doubted anyone could write a screenplay like this and believe it to be an honest tear-jerker. But what did she know? Everyone in the cinema was either crying or tearful, and the fact that they had paid to see this film several weeks after its release said something about…something. _Gunsport V_ was not a necessarily bad movie; it was just a bad drama. But perhaps that was the point. Perhaps it was meant to be over-the-top and a parody of itself. Somehow. Admittedly, Blake did not know what to think of it yet.

For this reason, her attention drifted to the rare instance of a Yang in tears. In shadow, she could get away with staring at her girlfriend in public, simply admiring her and smiling at the hand on her shoulder. Had Ruby not been sitting between them—a purposeful choice to keep her spirits high—then Blake doubted she would be able to pay any attention at all. Even with the promise of explosions and overdramatic gunfights to come, she would have been content to fall asleep against her partner's shoulder.

The screen faded to black and Yang looked over. It was only a check-up glance, but Blake took comfort in the fact that it happened. The hand on her shoulder squeezed, a wink was sent her way, and a newly dry-eyed Ruby giggled at the joke her sister whispered. The young girl then turned to the Faunus, smiling and offering her bucket of popcorn.

How in the world had Blake gone from hating everything and fighting in the White Fang to _this_ —this domesticated, normal life? She never considered herself particularly lucky—if luck even was a thing—and knew her appearance tended to project annoyance, but now she was being offered popcorn. Despite her past labels of "terrorist" and "monster," Blake was not treated any differently than humans now; Ruby was unafraid and honestly enthused by her teammate's inclusion. But this was how it had always been at Beacon. She was no longer a lieutenant or propagandist or intelligence officer; she was just Blake. She was just Blake: friend, girlfriend, person. It was such a novel change that she could not resist Ruby's offer, taking a small handful and turning back to the screen.

The movie continued with its nonsensical ramblings, a now disgruntled Lazer Jr. having just arrived in Vale. With nothing but a memory of the man he was tasked with finding, he had a daunting journey ahead. However, Blake knew his goal would be achieved. It was all the same with these sorts of films—a sad beginning makes for a happy end, the greater a challenge meant the greater a chance at overcoming, and it was doubtless two or three twists would keep the journey from being completed too easily. To some degree, it was predictable, but something about _Gunsport_ 's self-awareness made the description inaccurate.

For as long as she and Yang had been friends, the blonde had frequently made fun of her for "always being on." Admittedly, some of the Faunus' analyses could stray into realms of illogical and grasping-for-straws, but her proclivity for literature made them almost second-nature instincts. She thought in terms of acts, chapters, in means of cause and effect. If she were to smile, Yang would feel gratified, and this was where they were in their relationship. In this way, she had a hunch as to where the film was going.

Vale was depicted as a loud, obtrusive, and unforgiving jungle of metal and stone with an allover grime sticking to every surface. While this made sense for the film's outsider point of view, Blake could not help but see the depiction as inaccurate. The Vale she knew was loud and obtrusive, yes, but it was forgiving in its anonymity and surprisingly clean despite its breadth. However, young Lazer, disgruntled and scared, kept his head down as he marched into the city with nothing but the rags and tattered rucksack on his back.

Bias. That was it. Whoever made this film was letting their personal grievances slip, and now the city was cast in a negative light. As it was, Blake found herself in disagreement.

Rather than seeking shelter as would have been essential for a tired wanderer, Lazer instead entered the first ammunition store he so coincidentally happened to pass. A bell dinged in the theatre and Ruby perked up—subtly but not at all invisibly. The store itself was bleak in design, boxes of ammunition stacked high on every wall and an irritable owner posted behind his register. But, most peculiar of all, there were no guns. Before Blake could mark this as an error, Lazer visibly reacted, too.

"You're new here," came the storeowner's graveled assumption. Lazer simply stared at him. "Where you from?"

They locked eyes for a moment, gauging each other's worth. Lazer answered, "A ways."

"Foreigner, huh? Don't see many of you around." Something about the owner's smile disconcerted Blake. "Looking to buy? Or do you have something you want to get rid of?"

Lazer clenched his fist. "Looking for ammo."

After a sweeping glance across the store's stocked shelves, the older man's gaze rested almost condescendingly on his patron's own. "So sorry. All we got is groceries. Feel free to look around if you want, though. Maybe we got some in the back." He sneered.

Why was this deal even happening in the first place? Weapons—and, more specifically, their mechanics—were an embedded part of Vale's culture. The city loved its hunters, prided its creativity, and had, historically, been the most technologically complex kingdom on Remnant. So, why was this deal being made to seem illegal, as though a fifteen-year-old girl could not buy large-caliber rounds in crate-sized quantities?

Regardless of reality, the owner was playing a game with Lazer. With a grumble, the younger man took his rucksack off and laid it across the counter, unzipping it and revealing what was inside. "Do you have anything for this?"

The owner let out a low whistle. Inside the canvas bag rested a retracted rifle. Between the way it folded and the size of its flared muzzle, there was something necessarily gaudy about the ultra-high-caliber weapon. Nevertheless, the older man was impressed.

"I'll give you fifty Lien for it."

"I need ammo."

"Seventy-five."

Lazer began to close his bag.

"Wait, wait, wait. All right, I'll see what I've got." Begrudgingly, the owner stood from his chair, muscles paining him visibly as he shuffled off behind the back wall. "Typical tourists," he mumbled. "Trying to come in here, tell me how to do my job, and rob me out of house and home. But at least he's paying."

Suddenly, another bell chimed and Ruby perked again. It took a moment, but when the Faunus realized that the bell had not come from either the store or the theatre's speakers, she turned to her wide-eyed leader. Hesitantly and with more and more moviegoers' eyes training on her silhouette, the young leader reached into her belt pouch and peeked at the noise's source. Soon enough, though, her fear became elation and a simple peek became a small light in a dark cinema.

"Ruby!" Yang hissed. "Put your scroll away!"

"But—" The young girl caught herself, checking her volume against her sister's glare. "It's Weiss! She texted me! She's doing all right!"

The joy in her voice was palpable and rejuvenating. Certainly, this was good news for the trio, but the crowd around them was becoming restless—even this tiny light was enough to make them shift in their seats. Further, Yang was looking at her sister as though she should know better.

"Put your scroll away. We're gonna get kicked out."

"But it's _Weiss_ , Yang!"

Ruby turned to her scroll, ignoring the movie for a glimpse at her solace. Blake, for her part, could forgive the strain on her eyes for the joy Ruby showed, and even Yang's expression softened at seeing her sister smile. However, those unacquainted with the team were indifferent. Growing, passive-aggressive mutterings made Blake's ears twitch and Yang's expression fall again to worry.

"Okay, cool. But you can't text in here. Go outside if you need to do that; just put your phone away." Yang watched realization dawn on her sister as the light turned off. Before the younger girl could apologize, Yang said, "It's fine. Just get out of here. Go on and tell Weiss how much you love her."

"Yang!"

One not-at-all-upset hug from her older sister later, Ruby, flushed and glaring, exited, passing Blake by and putting the popcorn in her lap. The couple watched as she marched out of the theatre. Rather, they watched Ruby try. She did her best to stay angry and embarrassed, but her attempts at hiding the spring in her step failed as soon as she rounded the exit corner. As soon as she believed herself out of sight, she skipped and grinned and took her phone out immediately. Honestly, this was more affecting than the movie.

Blake's attention was then pulled away from the young girl by a sound at her side. Yang had left her seat, switched her and Ruby's drinks in their cup-holders, and closed the gap. "Hey, good lookin'," she whispered, placing a kiss against Blake's cheek and an arm around her shoulder. "Fancy meeting you here."

As wanted as this contact was, Blake said, "Shush."

"Did you just shush me?"

"If I don't, they will." The Faunus turned her partner's attention to the viewers only one row ahead. They glared, missing their valued exposition for another moment of reprimand. Nevertheless, Yang received a smile. "We'll have time to talk later. Right now, relax."

Never one to be discouraged, Yang nodded and rested her head against Blake's shoulder. Her arm slid down to the Faunus' back and a similar hand found its way into her own golden locks. There had indeed been a time when Blake shied away from these public displays of affection, but those scruples had ended with Yang. Mostly, she enjoyed her girlfriend's aura and put all of her focus into its existence, but she would admit a sense of pride at having Beacon's-most-wanted hanging on her arm. If there was anything Blake could brag about, it was Yang. She leaned her head against her girlfriend's and returned to the film.

The store owner had become a recurring character at some point, but besides his first name of Guy, Blake knew nothing else about him. After the transaction for the ammunition and a short tête-à-tête about the utility of one bullet's grain over another—something Blake found oddly savvy—Guy offered Lazer a place to stay. Presently, Lazer was admitting his search for his brother, an especially black sheep whose flight from the Fringes directly led to his mother and sisters' deaths. It was all tenuous and cliché, but something about the narrative's self-containment made Blake begin to reconsider its lack of quality.

Of course, she might have just been in better spirits because of Yang.

"So, your brother. Is he going to be a problem?"

Lazer asked, wary, "Problem?"

Guy cut a finger across his neck. "Problem."

"Not that kind. He's going to put up a fight, though."

"I'd be worried if he didn't. With _you_ coming after him, God, who wouldn't?"

Somehow, his neutral expression and tone were able to convey flippancy. The audience would have no reason to think he was joking without context, but his bitter yet yielding personality had been sufficiently characterized. Blake had to wonder, though, was he a father? There was certainly a purpose in making him the first character Lazer came in contact with.

Lazer stood, rifle half assembled, half mid-cleaning. "I'm not going after anyone. I'm bringing him home. But I first need to find him."

"It's a big city."

"So, you're no help?"

Guy broke his stoicism, sneering at Lazer's haste. "Maybe. But I know some people who can get you where you're going." Lazer moved to inquire but was interrupted. "You've gotta understand something, though. These guys are pretty close-knit. If you _have_ to get your revenge, you'll have to get in good with them first."

"Dangerous?"

"Sure, if you pull a gun on them. But if you want to live, you'll have to rely on that winning personality of yours."

Lazer scowled but acquiesced.

A soft chuckle sounded from the audience, Yang's shoulders shaking at the quip. Compared to the rest of the film, Blake found this part dull.

The absurdity of a character named Lazer inhabiting a world centered around guns was ridiculous, if not kairotically pointed, and had made the Faunus come close to laughing. These one-liners, however, were merely passable. But she would not complain. Yang was enjoying herself, and that was really all that mattered. The film could be head-achingly bad and even still Blake would not mind so long as her partner was content. And, likewise, Yang would be content so long as Blake was with her and Ruby could see the film.

Seeming to have reached the same question at the same time, Blake and Yang turned to each other. The latter's brows furrowed as she spoke, whispering at such a low, low level that only a Faunus' unbound ears could recognize the words. "You think she's all right?"

Blake nodded.

"She's been out there a while. Maybe I should go check on her."

There was a moment of pause wherein the girl in black agreed. However, she shook her head on principle. "She'll be fine. She and Weiss need to talk right now."

Yang was hesitant, frowning and with gaze cast down at the popcorn. She sighed. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. But if she doesn't come back soon, we might have to see this again. I don't want her missing—"

"I know. And I understand. If we need to come back, we will." This gave Yang a chance to smile, which was only received by a kiss to her forehead. "Now shush," Blake said again. "It's starting to get good."

To be completely honest, _Gunsport V_ was not as bad as Blake had expected. It certainly had its clichés and campy dialogues, but there was an unmistakable refinement to it, a practiced style directly proportional to this being the franchise's fifth iteration. It was not great—it was no masterpiece—but Blake was enthused by its end and had even succumbed to a few fits of laughter. Of course, most of her enjoyment could have been attributed to Yang's positive, cuddling influence, but the film was surprisingly fine.

At some point during the second act, the film became the less important part of the cinema. Dark and intimate as it was and with two tired huntresses in close proximity, affection proved a natural result. The arm rest between Blake and Yang was pulled up, allowing the taller to lean fully on the shorter and the shorter to pull closer to the taller. Neither fell asleep or dared to press these affections, but the company was nice and Blake found herself smiling. Every once in a while a stray yellow cowlick would get in her way, but that was the price she paid for leaning on Yang's head. Yang, on the other hand, seemed to have taken the more rewarding position, being that she had a bucket of popcorn immediately before her and her partner's arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. For both, life was finally just. They could watch a movie, cuddle despite the crowd, and understand that Ruby was happy somewhere else.

It was not a bad film, not a bad film at all.

* * *

"So? What'd'ya think?"

Moviegoers were filing out of the theatre now, smiles and frowns ranging in their discussions. Yang was particularly happy, a healthy glow to her skin as she tugged at Blake's hand. Without so much as looking where she was going, she was able to lead her partner through the congesting mass and out into the all-black corridor. She must have liked the film.

"I was surprised."

"Wow. High praise, Miss Everything's Bleh."

Blake nudged the blonde with her shoulder, shaking her head. "I'm serious. I expected it to be horrible, and it wasn't. It was just a decent action movie."

"Decent? Didn't you see the part where Lazer jumped his bike onto the boat and punched that old guy?" Her eyes were wide and bright. "Prepare to be boarded," she quoted and punched the air. "So good. Shame Ruby didn't see any of it."

There was no response Blake could give to that. Eventually, the three—or possibly four—would return and see _Gunsport_ again for Ruby's sake, and Blake did not mind this fact. However, she could not ignore the emphasis Yang put on her sister's enjoyment; Ruby's not seeing the movie had obviously hurt. "You know," Blake said, voice dipping to mask her distracting offer, "I wouldn't be opposed to seeing the rest of the films. There was a bit of backstory there that I didn't quite understand. I'm sure there would be _some_ benefit to watching the other four before the fifth."

A gloved hand squeezed Blake's. "Sure! Sounds like a date." As though nothing were wrong in the world, Yang placed a loud, giggling peck against her girlfriend's temple, trying and failing to make the Faunus blush in this public space. "But we should see if Ruby's down for that, too. I bet she'd like it. Where is she, by the way?"

The couple found themselves in a wide concessionary lobby, chattering patrons moving this way and that atop more black tiles. Although the two stood central to the noise, earning annoyed glances and occasional collisions, neither could be thrown from their goals. Yang was scanning over the tops of whatever heads she could while Blake looked back, down the hall they had come from. Logically, there was nothing to worry about. Ruby could take care of herself and knew better than to hide from her team. Still, there would always be a sense of urgency in Yang's mind as to her sister's safety, and Blake would admit that she worried, too. She could only hope Weiss' update had not been too realistic.

"Think we should split up and find her?"

Blake shook her head. "Then we'd just have to find each other again. We're better off together. If Weiss were here, then—"

"She's not. And that's the problem."

The two moved as one, watching where the other could not. Immediately, Blake ruled out the concession stands. In spite of her familiarity with death and the machines thereof, Ruby was still a veritable child and often shuddered at the task of speaking with cashiers—not that the Faunus would do much better. Yang suggested she could have been in the lobby, seated on one of the benches or couches at the edge of the crowds, but the whole point of Ruby's leaving the theatre was to avoid judging eyes. Alternatively, she could have stepped outside for a better signal or breath of fresh air, but, of course, it was cold out.

No matter what, love always dulls better judgment. Blake knew it, Yang had felt it, and now Ruby was bound to those reassuring words dancing across her screen somewhere. And although Blake was reluctant to characterize Ruby and Weiss' relationship as definitive love just yet, she knew Ruby was still pulled by pangs of longing and care. For this reason, it came as no surprise when the older couple found the young girl sitting by herself on a quiet lobby bench, hunched over her scroll and eagerly awaiting Weiss' next message.

Yang let out an explosive sigh. Whether this was relief at finding her sister or disappointment at Weiss' effect could not be determined, but Blake liked the idea of the former. "Well, there are worse things than having friends." Apparently, the answer was both.

Before the blonde could settle into a thankful pause, Blake pulled her along.

It took a moment, but Ruby soon looked up at them and smiled. Irrespective of how captivating Weiss' writing may have been, it was difficult for anyone to ignore Blake and Yang today, what with their matching jackets and contrasting color schemes. Despite her best intentions and want for solitude, Blake had proven ostentatious. But although this would be humorous in retrospect, it was hardly the present point. Ruby was now before her.

"Hey, guys! How was the movie?" the girl spoke as though nothing were wrong, as though she had not left in the first place and was only now meeting up with her teammates.

"I should be asking you the same thing," Yang chided playfully.

Silver eyes widened as Ruby rubbed the back of her neck. "Heh. Yeah. About that…"

"Don't worry. If you wanna come back and take another swing at it, we can."

"No, it's not that. I mean, I really did want to see it and I thought it was pretty good, but…You know. Weiss." Her eyes cast downwards. With a calming nod, Yang let go of her partner's hand and moved to sit beside her sister. Ruby sighed. "Sorry, Yang."

"Sorry? Dude, don't worry about it. You had something to take care of and you took care of it. Yeah, you missed, like, the entire movie, but you're doing a nice thing." A hand was brought up to squeeze the cape-clad shoulder. "So, what's she saying? Anything good?"

Blake took note of Ruby's reaction. At first, she tilted her scroll away so Yang could not see the conversation, but, simultaneously, she smiled at the chance to speak about her girlfriend. "Tons of good stuff! She's doing good—"

"Well." If not for Blake, then Weiss would have done the same.

"Well. She made it to Atlas safely, talked to her dad about that thing she needed to take care of, and now she's just in her room, bored." She giggled to herself. "You know how she gets when there's nothing to work on. I guess you guys were right; she really did want to talk to me."

"So, are you going to call her?" asked Yang. "It's one thing to read a text but another to hear someone's voice."

After a moment of consideration, Ruby shrugged. "I don't know. Depends on what she wants to do. Really, I'm fine with texting, but if she wants to talk—" Her scroll vibrated and, immediately, she went back to writing.

Blake could not help but smile. There was a certain purity about the way Ruby and Weiss were communicating—the rushed back and forth, the excited impatience for every single word. It was an epistolary fervor she had only read of in her novels. That, and she could see her younger self in this conversation, her past yearnings for conversations with Yang and the joy she felt in spending time with her. Ruby and Weiss were so far apart yet kept to each other as though their hands were intertwined.

The Faunus asked when Ruby looked back up, "Besides that, any news?"

"Oh! Right. Weiss said she's coming back on the sixteenth."

"So, two days," Yang said.

"Yup! Not a lot of time to buy all her presents, but if we work hard enough, we can probably get it done. But…I'm still kinda not sure what I should get her." Ruby looked to her sister, paused, reconsidered, and turned to her standing teammate with a much less hesitant expression. "What're you gonna get her, Blake? Just asking so we don't get the same thing."

"I don't know either. More than likely, it will be a book of some kind; though, I'd imagine she has access to an extensive library already." Maybe a book was not the best idea. It was too…impersonal. Blake shook her head. "Whatever the case, it needs to be personal. You'll figure something out. But if she arrives before you're able to get her anything, Yang and I can keep her distracted." She then looked to the blonde, asking an unstated, "Won't we?"

"Weiss? Oh, yeah, we could totally keep _her_ distracted. It's you two I have to worry about, snooping around and stuff. Weiss has a lot of things wrong with her—and I mean _a lot_." This earned Yang an elbow from her sister. "But she hates all our games. Hiding gifts from her would be like hiding homework from me."

Ruby nodded. "All right. The soft deadline is tomorrow, but if we can't get all her shopping done by then—"

"Then it won't be too much of a problem," Blake finished.

Another text came in, but the young leader paused this time. Her expression was sly, eyes focused on nothing in particular as her lips curled to a gradual, ready look. "Two days. Well, one. Guys, I think we can do this. I think this is going to be the best Christmas ever."

* * *

It was late—rather, late for the day Team RWBY had had up until now. After a teary-eyed goodbye, an airship ride, and a movie and takeout to top it all off, the remaining members of Ruby, Yang, and Blake could barely keep themselves awake. There was something incredibly novel about returning home. There was a natural tiredness that came about when rejoining one's cold, untouched bed, and, no matter how excited the three were for the days ahead, there was still a limit to their energy. But this was fine. The beds were soft, the linens were cool, and their shared company was welcomed. It felt good to be home.

Presently, Blake was distracting herself in routine. One or two chapters of a book before bed, every night, was her plan to combat last summer's sloth. She brought only a couple novels this time, saving space in her suitcase for research materials and possible gifts. Unfortunately, she found herself unable to focus.

It was odd. She felt excited to be home and wanted to revel in this feeling for as long as she could, but she also wanted to sleep. But she also wanted to wait for Yang and as well make some sort of progress in her reading. Four wants pressing on this single moment made the Faunus both frustrated and oddly at ease. She had a choice. She could go to sleep now or she could wait. She could read her book or check up on Ruby and her continued texting. Or she could do nothing, and that was perhaps the most refreshing change of all. Tomorrow, the three would go out and begin preparations for Christmas, but, tonight, they would simply rest.

There were two doors in the room, one Blake was directly facing and one off to her right. Both were closed. Past the former and across the hall, Ruby was in her room, giggling at the decidedly un-Weiss conversation going on and brimming with enough energy to continue all night. And past the latter door, sounds of sloshing water and scents of lavender and vanilla were accompanied by a musical hum. For a moment, Blake was able to visualize the sight of her girlfriend's bath, but she did not linger on the image for too long. On any other night, she was sure Yang would appreciate the attention, but tonight was for sleeping.

With a promise to herself and an accompanying smirk, Blake set her sights back on her book. The story was nothing of outstanding note—simply a classic she had long been meaning to read—but it was interesting and passed the time well. Six pages later, she was interrupted by a particularly happy snort from the faraway Ruby and, incidentally, the clunk and gurgle of Yang's bath, now ending. With a new timeframe in mind, Blake redoubled her efforts and pushed to finish the chapter before her partner's return.

However, she proved too slow in this regard.

The bathroom door opened and out poured a wave of steam, lavender, and the distinctive, musty smell of bathwater. Blake was unable to keep her eyes on the novel, having been drawn to the sight of her positively reenergized girlfriend. "So, Blake," Yang began without introduction, smiling easily and pulling her still wet mane up and out from her tank top, "any word from Weiss? You two get our reservations taken care of yet?"

For a long few seconds—seconds which Yang noticed and appreciated—the Faunus' gaze was spellbound. The sheer casualness with which the blonde spoke and treated the people around her was yet something to get used to. But Blake did nod. "Yes," she said, blinking. "Though, there is a problem."

"Hmm?"

"She got us reservations for tomorrow night."

"And you think that's a problem? The sooner the better, right?" Yang had not walked towards the bed but instead to her closet. Both girls' belongings were hanging within—duplicates of their everyday uniforms, workout clothes, and a couple dresses meant for Blake's eventual birthday dinner. Yang went in to change. "I mean, the whole point of the date is to make up for lost time. So, why lose more?"

"Because we'll need a larger window in order to prepare."

Yang turned on her heel, visibly confused. "Wait. Where exactly am I taking you?"

"A place called The Bee and the Eagle."

"Sounds uppity."

"It is. Or so Weiss says."

"Well, just let her know that the bill's coming out of our 'team fund.' I'm fine with trying it out, but if she set us up for someplace super-expensive, she's paying for it."

"I don't think that's the part she's worried about. From what Ruby said—"

"Wait. You didn't talk to her?"

Blake shook her head. "She and Ruby are busy. I tried calling, but Weiss hung up both times." A bark of laughter came from within the closet. "Ruby says they've been to the restaurant, though, and made sure to tell me about the dress code. That, on top of the pressing schedule set up for us, is what Weiss is worried about."

"Oh, obviously. Because God forbid she actually care about people instead of her schedules."

"Yang, she's worried that we won't have enough time to prepare. From what she and Ruby are saying, The Bee and the Eagle is not just a place for special occasions. Celebrities and senators go there for _their_ special occasions. I don't think our dresses satisfy the code."

"Then why didn't she reserve us seats for next week or something?"

Despite her lack of audience, Blake shrugged, turning the page of her book. "Ruby made the timeframe sound urgent. Or at least unchanging."

"Well…" Yang sighed. "If we didn't pack the right clothes, then that's on us. But we're still going. You deserve that dinner, and I'd bet a hundred Lien that Weiss knows what kind of stuff we packed. We might not be the best-dressed there, and we'll probably stick out like two sore thumbs—two incredibly _hot_ sore thumbs—but we're gonna have fun no matter what."

She then stepped into the closet's doorframe, holding the same white dress she had worn to every formal event at Beacon. "See? This doesn't look so bad, does it?" At first, Blake's answer had meant to be placating, an automatic assurance that nothing was wrong. But upon pulling her gaze fully from her book, she saw a distinctive lack of orange on Yang's shoulders. It took her a moment, but she soon realized there was nothing behind the dress, and, as such, her gaze bolted back to her book. "I guess not!" Yang giggled as she stepped back behind the closet's wall. "Either way, we'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

Blake tried to say something, anything. In response to her partner's taking full responsibility, she was compelled to argue for her own part in the plans, but all she could manage was an inarticulate "Huh." Suddenly, her book seemed boring by comparison.

In less than a minute, Yang walked back out, wearing a fresh change of shirt and shorts. At a not-so-composed pace, she approached the Faunus and slid headfirst onto her bed, taking in the touch of her linens for the first time in months and halting beside her partner's silk-clad arm. She kissed it and asked, "So, whatcha reading?"

One blink, two, a composing breath, and then another. Blake shook her head and smiled, focusing on this present, clothed version of her girlfriend. "Just a boring, old classic."

"Which one? The one about the guy with two souls or the guy walking around Mistral? Ooh, or is it the one about that horse?"

"None of the above. It's about a warrior who travels north in search of her vindication."

"Any good?"

"So far. I'm almost done with chapter two, so—"

"So, I'll get out of your hair, let you finish up." Yang pecked her partner's elbow again and rolled off the bed. "I've gotta go check on Ruby, lock the doors, all that good stuff. Think you can be done in five minutes?"

"Try two."

"That's what I like to hear! Chapter two in two minutes." She was doubtlessly tired—her stance was wobbling and she was blinking more often than she usually did—but this did not deter her from appearing energetic. That was just who Yang was: no admitted weakness, only strength. "When I get back, I'm gonna sleep for a week and I'm bringing you with me, even if we miss our date."

"Looking forward to it."

With a wink, Yang left. Only a few feet stood between her and Ruby's rooms, and it did not take long at all for a second door to open and a new greeting to sound. Blake returned to her book as her unbound ears perked at the conversation.

"Hey, Ruby. You doing all right?"

"Yup! Still texting Weiss. She's a really fast typer, you know?"

"I kinda figured. Look, I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead." One could almost hear the smile in the young girl's voice.

"That place Weiss got us reservations for, how expensive is it?"

"I, uh, don't know. I never asked. I mean, isn't that a little rude if someone's taking you out?"

"Depends. What'd you guys get? What do they cook?"

"You know, steak and fish and stuff. It's just really good, really fancy food." With both rooms' doors now opened, Blake could hear the girl's scroll vibrate. "I think you'll like it," Ruby continued, voice a bit distant. "Weiss got you reservations there for a reason, and even if I don't know what that reason is, I'm pretty sure she means the best."

"And what about you? Got anything planned for when Blake and I are out?"

"Nope. Not really."

"Gonna talk to Weiss some more?"

"Nah, she's gonna be flying tomorrow night. Says she wants to be here in the morning, so…You know."

"It's gonna be lonely here with you all by yourself."

"Yeah," breathed Ruby. She then assured, "But don't worry about me. You and Blake have fun. I'll figure something out."

A silence settled throughout the house. The act of even turning a page seemed far too loud, so Blake could only sit and wait for someone to say something. Yang let out a sobering laugh. "I don't think Weiss realizes how good a deal she has with you backing her up."

"Maybe. But she backs me up, too."

"Yeah. I bet."

The sisters sighed in tandem, yet another silence taking hold as Blake turned to the final page of her chapter. "Anyways," said Yang eventually, "make sure you get some sleep. We've all got a big day tomorrow, and I know Weiss'd want you to be in tip-top shape for when you buy her present."

"Got it! Promise I won't stay up for too long."

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, then. See you in the morning."

"Love you, Yang."

"Love you, too."

Suddenly, Ruby shouted, "Night, Blake!"

Rather than shouting back, the girl in black simply shook her head. These sisters were the worst sort of good influence. The door to her leader's room shut, feet padded down the hall's carpet, a couple locks clicked far away—in the foyer—and the sound of crunching carpet drew once again nearer. After a second reading of the chapter's final line, Blake shut her book, just in time to welcome her partner back.

Yang's tiredness, which had only been an assumption before, now appeared outwardly on her features, her guards and façades being dropped altogether as the door behind her closed with a _thud_. She slumped against the entrance and sighed. Nothing was said between the two, but Blake did lend support by way of a smirk. If anyone had a right to be tired after today, it was Yang. She had been the one to orchestrate their travel plans, take care of Ruby in Weiss' stead, and go the extra mile by taking her team out to see a movie.

But perhaps Blake was biased. She set her book on her nightstand, beside Gambol Shroud and a loaded magazine, and beckoned Yang close by lifting the unoccupied side of their soon to be shared bedding.

Obvious anticipation ran through Yang's mind as her expression curled more and more upwards. It was as though she were savoring the scene before her, taking it in as Blake had done upon entering this house. She then pushed off of the door and strode across the room with what little energy she had left, grinning at the Faunus as she accepted the offered blanket. Wordlessly, she slipped into the bed, shifting the mattress, warming the cold, and resting her head atop her two pillows. Her grin held.

"Happy to be home?" Blake asked, knowing the answer from the admiring eyes looking up at her but wanting to hear it nonetheless.

"More happy to be with you." An arm was draped across the Faunus' waist, thumb playing with the sash of her sleepwear. "When was the last time we did this? Three, four months ago?"

A raven brow was raised. Had Yang honestly forgotten? "Wednesday."

"No, I mean sleeping in the same bed." The blonde inched closer, eager joy tapering to a more expected yawn. "You know that Weiss and Goodwitch can't control us forever. This is my house and my rules. And my rule is no rules."

"I forget; was that a quote from _Gunsport_?"

Yang drew ever nearer, the lavender and vanilla results of her bath joining her and calming the Faunus even further. " _Gunsport IV_ ," she sighed. Her head bumped Blake's forearm. Evidently, she wanted to sleep. "Hey, Blake?"

"Hmm?"

"What're you gonna get Ruby and Weiss tomorrow? Like, I'm not gonna tell them or anything, but I just want to make sure we don't get them the same thing."

Her eyes were desperate to close. In fact, Yang had begun to roll into her pillow to block out the room's light. She would never complain about her friends' possible interferences in her life, but Blake felt for her in this regard. The Faunus leaned over to her nightstand and switched off her lamp. The room was immediately bathed in a restful darkness.

"Thanks, kitten," Yang said. She rolled back to look at her partner. Under the grey, cloud-covered moonlight which now streamed in from the room's open blinds, the two could see one another, tired yet full of mirth. "And sorry about asking that. It'd probably be better if I didn't know, you know?"

A subdued giggle from the other room, a low hiss of the water heater refilling, and the easy breaths of the blonde were all Blake could hear. The house was now silent and dark. She could see her partner clearly, however, and her pair of beaming eyes looking right back at her, waiting for something—perhaps a physical greeting or some imitation of their owner's ready-for-bed yawn. Blake sighed and reclined, turning so she could face her partner directly.

Now face-to-face, Yang could see Blake's assured expression. "Don't worry," the Faunus said. "I don't mind if you know. To be honest, I could probably use your help."

"Looking for something in specific?"

Blake shook her head. "No, not really. I already have their gifts prepared; I'm just not sure if they're adequate." She paused, gauging Yang's reaction, but found only patience. She continued, "I was thinking of giving them books—a novel for Ruby and information for Weiss. I know it's not a good idea—"

"It's the best idea." The Faunus could not tell if her partner's feedback had come from either delirious or earnest means, but she was happy because Yang was, too. "I'm kinda interested in what you're gonna give them now. Knowing you, you probably picked out something personal for the both of them. I just got Ruby a, uh, camera. And I still don't know what to get Weiss. Do you think she even wants anything? Do you think we could even afford the kinds of things she'd want?"

"Yang, she may be rude and condescending sometimes, but she's not spoiled. I'm sure that whatever you get her will be fine. Just try to be nice." Blake chuckled at the bored groan she was given. "Fine, fine." She ran an experimental hand up her partner's arm, noting her laugh and moving then to caress her cheek. Blake held the lilac gaze on her own. "For what it's worth, I think the camera is a good idea. And Weiss is likely having similar difficulties in finding a gift for you. But there's no need to worry. We can figure out their presents tomorrow."

"Yeah," sighed Yang, pressing against her partner's hand. "Tomorrow. Ready to go to sleep?" Blake nodded and, not a moment later, Yang moved towards her.

In most cases, Blake would be content to have curled up against her partner's chest, tired arms wrapped around her front and auric warmth spreading across her back. But the two had not slept together for a few months, and Yang seemed the most affected by this. Her golden mane came to rest beneath Blake's chin, thereby rolling the girl over so she could lay her head on the Faunus' chest for a change. This was not a problem whatsoever. In kind, Blake maneuvered her arm beneath Yang and wrapped it around her shoulder. The result of these final few seconds of movement and expended energy was the blonde's satisfied hum.

"I missed this," Yang whispered. "I missed you. I missed…"

As the sentence trailed off, Blake feathered a kiss against her partner's head. "I missed you, too. Thank you for inviting me back. I honestly can't think of what I would have done if I'd taken my parents up on their offer. Three weeks without you would have been a nightmare."

Yang nodded weakly into her chest.

"Hey, Blake? What'd you get me for Christmas?"

"A book. I'm not sure if you'll like it, but…" Blake sighed, bringing her hand up to comb through the cold, drying mane. Why was she giving this information away? She trusted Yang, sure, but this was to be a surprise—a surprise months in the making. A small, happy noise interrupted her thoughts, and she then knew why she had spoken. "I'm sure you'll like it. And what did you get for me?"

The breaths to her side had slowed. Now all the Faunus could hear was Ruby's occasional laugh and the eager clicks of her thumbs against her scroll's screen. Besides the young girl, all the house was asleep. Yang would not answer.

But this was fair and just. Blake could feel her eyelids beginning to droop by their own accord, and the warmth beneath her bedsheets was enough to end her conversational streak. It had been a long day full of travel and near upset, and now all she wanted to do was revel in the fact that she was home. Yang was resting against her, breaking the characterization of an invincible, self-reliant mother figure to be the personally invested, happy-to-be-alive best friend Blake knew her to be. Her arm had come to rest across the Faunus, unconsciously pulling herself closer as her legs coiled around her partner's own.

Blake could not help but smile at how far they had come. She had been shy, distrustful of humanity, and had even categorized her thoughts of loving Yang as strict impossibilities. But she had also acted. She had gone out of her way to gain Yang's attention, took an otherwise irrational chance at asking her out, and now she was happier than she ever had been. Crowds were still a difficulty, prejudices still existed, but nothing could bother her so long as Yang was here. She brushed aside the blonde's bangs and placed a kiss on her forehead. She was home.

The girl atop Blake stirred, nuzzling up into her neck. Yang mumbled and hummed, trying to break free from her tiredness. "Blake?"

"Yeah?"

"Blakey?"

"I'm here, Yang. I've got you."

"I love you." Whether she was awake or not hardly mattered. What mattered was that she meant what she said. "I love you," she all but whimpered, clutching onto the girl beside her.

"I love you, too, Yang." The Faunus put her other arm around the warm figure, pulling her into a quieting hug. She shut her eyes and felt the slipping pull of shadows and dreamscapes goad her into quitting for the night. But she hugged Yang tighter. She felt safe, happy, and with a prideful flame burning in her heart—this was home. "Thank you."

* * *

I missed writing fluff. Really, the final acts of _Valence_ put me in a bit of a mood since it was all so painful and dramatic. But I'm glad my fluff-writing ability (or what little there is) hasn't left me yet. Looking at the plans for future chapters, I'm excited for what's in store for Bumblebee and, more importantly for this plot's progression, White Rose. This isn't going to be an entirely fluffy novel (pain will definitely come), but some of the things I have planned for the couples are going to be a lot of fun.

To that point, you might have picked up on a few blatant signals between Blake and Yang in this chapter. I can tell you now that _On Kaiser Island_ will uphold its T rating to the very end—there will be no swears or graphic depictions of these signals—but I'm going to push the limit of that T as far as I can. For clarity: Yes, Blake and Yang are sexually active. No, I won't write that. It will play a part in this story and it will be mentioned, but I'm not writing smut.

As for Ruby and Weiss, I wrote in the beginning author's note that the chapter would be weighted more towards Bumblebee out of necessity. I promise that by the end of the first act, there will be a few decent moments of White Rose, but, until then, you'll have to allow Blake, Yang, and Ruby to grow as a trio. Fortunately, Weiss' perspective will return very soon.

The main reason why Weiss isn't in this chapter, besides my setting up for future conflicts and allowing the trio to grow closer, was to give Kaiser Island the proper introduction it will eventually deserve. Switching to Weiss in this chapter, within which she arrived at her home and spoke to her father, would have given her environment a matter-of-fact existence. Instead, I want to ease you into the island and its manor—I want to wow you instead of saying simply, "It exists." Unfortunately, we won't arrive upon Kaiser Island until the second act. That means the chapters between then and now will be spent characterizing and developing Team RWBY before they embark upon their upper-crust, grandiose, and culturally confusing adventures on Kaiser Island. (Gotta love that title drop.)

With these upper-stratum adventures, however, there must be other characters. As you can probably imagine, Teams like JNPR and SSSN and individuals like Ozpin and Torchwick probably don't frequent the Schnee family home. That means a new cast of characters will be needed to fill in the gaps.

Now, before anyone gets ahead of themselves, I'd just like to say that I don't enjoy OC's in fan fiction, either. The ones in this story will be, for the most part, one-offs—vignettes and anecdotes to characterize Weiss' world. There will, however, be a few OC's who do play comparatively larger roles, though they will not take away from the story of Team RWBY. These few include Weiss' father and Winter, and I've already made references to Blake's parents. Although there will be OC's, every single one of them (with the specific exceptions to Weiss' father and Winter) will be background characters who **only** serve to develop Team RWBY and progress the plot. If I could only ask you for one thing, it would be to bear with me on these OC's. I promise they won't be too painful.

One specific thing I would like to mention about these characters, though, is that Winter and Ruby, within the context of this story, have not met yet. At the time of this chapter's posting, we are about a week out from the first episode of Volume 3. Judging by the opening sequence, there is a major possibility of Ruby and Winter interacting. However, in the context of this AU, the two have never met.

This is actually part of a larger clarification that I should have made in the first chapter. In the process of writing _Valence_ , I found myself stressed out by trying to keep my novel (which began before Volume 2) up to date with canon, which resumed almost halfway through my chapters. One of the bigger wrenches thrown into my plans at the time was the mention of Weiss' sister—I had assumed Weiss was an only child. This wrench was overcome, however, though not without revisions to my plans. Unfortunately, these revisions were fairly extensive and focused on the novel's intangible foundation. Therefore, I've decided that no matter what happens in Volumes 3, 4, or onwards, I will not retcon my already posted chapters. I'll do my best to keep up with canon and fuse it with _On Kaiser Island_ , but you must understand that I prioritize OKI's continuity above canonical accuracy. Whatever happens in Volume 3, I will abide by it, but only until the chapter where RWBY arrives upon Kaiser Island. After that, I might have to ignore canon—I hope not, but it is a possibility. In this way, I hope to reduce stress and create a structurally sounder story.

Tl;dr: I'll try to keep OKI consistent with canon, but once my first act ends, everything will then be set in stone. If there's a twist at the end of Volume 3, that's just tough luck for me.

Lastly, let's talk about Christmas. _On Kaiser Island_ is not a Christmas story. It can be seen that way, and you wouldn't be wrong in thinking so, but there is going to be so much more to this story than a single holiday—or even two since New Year's is a thing. This is a story about Team RWBY being on Kaiser Island, dealing with the conflicts thereon, and growing as characters. Although Christmas will be a **very, very, very** important part of this story, the story is not centered around Christmas. Without spoiling anything, I can say that this novel absolutely is, to some degree, a Christmas story, but the amount of other stuff accompanying the holidays makes that title inaccurate. I apologize for any disappointments.

So, with that, I can conclude chapter two. Hopefully chapter three won't as troublesome to write or take as long as this did. I doubt it will, since it's going to be a little more straightforward, but I am taking on a task I never had the chance to write in _Valence_. Chapter three won't have as large a Bumblebee focus as the one here, but it won't have a big White Rose focus, either. Maybe I'm just being optimistic, but I think it'll be fun.

Thank you for reading. The support you all have shown has so far been incredible. All the kind reviews you've written, all the encouraging PM's you've sent are more than I could have asked for, and I can hardly thank you enough. I wish I were better at giving compliments and saying thanks because you all deserve the same amount you put in. You guys are seriously the best.

Stay safe and stay tuned.


	3. Chapter 3: Esprit de corps

Hey. It's been a while. To tell you the truth, I don't have any excuses for this chapter being late except my being busy and being distracted by that busyness—and, even then, those excuses are pretty unsatisfactory. I mentioned in the previous chapter's author's notes that I prefer to release chapters at monthly intervals, or at least as close as I can get to monthly. But, sometimes, that just doesn't work out. I apologize. I can't promise this won't happen again, but I will do better. I'm sorry.

Now, that being said, thank you for your patience. These past two months, although filled with distractions, were not wasted. In fact, my busyness gave me more than a few chances to step back and appraise the growth of this chapter—checking to see if it was heading in the right direction, hitting the right beats, and generally flowing well. I bragged a bit on my Tumblr that this instalment might be "one of my finer technical achievements," and I still believe that. This is what my first-act chapters should be—easy, foreshadowing, and tone-setting. Unfortunately, this might also be one of those chapters where its hidden worth won't be brought to light until the later acts. For now, though, I hope you enjoy it—I know I did.

Anyway, let's get started. No more delays. Here is chapter three of _On Kaiser Island_.

* * *

Chapter 3: Esprit de corps

Everything was warm. The little river that snaked and burbled through the rocks and nearest grasses was a fair companion to the steady breeze now whistling by Blake's ears. Everything was good. Blue skies and a sticky heat, troupes of children cheering somewhere in the distance, playing their joyful games of war, and a knowledge that time could stand still for just an easy moment. Everything was restful. With a head against Yang's chest, a heartbeat against Blake's cheek, and a gentle, callused hand combing through a tangle of raven locks, everything was perfect.

"I'm happy," Yang said simply.

"You are?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Blake pressed against the hand in her hair, those fingers massaging her ears and the attention she could have only dreamed of just one year before. Sitting here in the shade of a quiet oak was all she could bring herself to do now. She could move closer, of course, and steal the kiss she had so wanted, but she could not move away. Something about the mood of the moment, she supposed.

"You know why," Yang smiled. "You always do."

The Faunus shook her head. "Tell me."

"Because I love you." Blake's ears twitched as lips pressed lazily against her right. "Because you're amazing." Another kiss, another ear. "Because you're my sleeepy kitty."

Despite the obvious flattery, Blake's heart flipped and twirled and set her chest ablaze with the roiling confidence that Yang meant every word. "You give the worst excuses," she sighed, wanting to laugh but wanting even more to fall asleep against this warmth.

"No excuses here." The hand in the Faunus' hair slowed to a halt at the sleeveless crest of her shoulder. In an instant, Blake was drawn closer to her partner, the strength of two arms now holding her tight and the heat of Yang's chest keeping both smiles alive. "Just the truth."

Blake did not know why she was here, why everything was so warm. It was supposed to be winter, and yet the leaves above rattled on a summer breeze. She would not complain, however, because doing so would only waste this fleeting moment. "Yang." She did not know why she wanted to speak, why she meant to say what she did. But the fact was that she did say it, and, to some extent, she agreed. "Let's run away, just you and me. Let's go somewhere. Escape. I want this to be forever—I want us to stay the same."

"You and me both, kitten. But you know we can't do that."

"Yeah."

"So, let's make a home here. Let's—"

"—not move a muscle," Blake finished, closing her eyes. "Let's just take it slow."

"Let's just take it slow," echoed the blonde. "We don't have to rush anything. Remember that? Remember when we tried to rush ourselves?"

"I'll never forget. I'm still so sorry."

"Don't be." Whether real or not, whether eager or sad, tears began to well at the corners of Blake's eyes. But before they could fall past the happy glow of her cheeks, a soothing thumb took all the pain away. "It's why I love you. I love you because we failed, and you still put me back together."

Blake's tears were falling quickly now, streaming down her cheeks, over Yang's thumb, and onto the nearest grasses. She was lucky—yes, that was it: luck—to have run her entire life and end up here, in the arms of respite and the warmth of a home. Fleeting or not, Blake was happy to laugh into Yang's chest, letting her tears fall freely as lips pressed smiling against her head. "I made you a promise, Yang, and I'll never forget it."

"And I'll keep my end of the bargain, too," the sweet voice whispered. Blake's eyes began to droop. "Now get some rest, kitten. You've got a long day ahead of you."

Blake fell asleep to the scratching of fingers against her sensitive scalp, both songbirds and summer singing solely for her ears. And just as soon as she succumbed to her shadows, the light of reality broke slowly through her daze. Her brows furrowed, breaths came in rasps, and as soon as she felt the distant senses of her body, she felt another heavy form lying softly against her chest. The Yang of before, so graceful and sentimental, was now a far cry away. No longer did she whisper into or kiss the Faunus' traits; she was snoring so lightly, so closely to Blake's human ears, and wore a goofy grin of either home or pleasant dreams.

It was not a bad sight. In fact, Blake was glad this was not a dream.

However, when the girl in black tried to rub her eyes and free herself from the lingering sensation of tears, the first arm she flexed turned out not to be her own. With a limp slap, Yang's forearm came to rest on her partner's face, earning a weary groan from the recipient and another snore from the girl who had, quite honestly, earned this insensate rest. Still, Blake could not say she was pleased with this new development.

She tried again, lifting her buzzing, deadened, and wholly asleep arm to push Yang's own away. She felt so pathetic in that moment and would have laughed at herself had she been more awake, but she did succeed this time and pushed a hand to her eye. Immediately, she awoke.

Not only had there been real tears in her eyes, there had been a lot. So much so, in fact, that her knuckle could barely catch them all before they streamed down the sides of her face and to the pools by both her ears. What had gone wrong? Why had she cried? Compared to all her other dreams, this one had been uniquely happy. It had been summer again, and she had been given the chance to sweep all the times she had failed Yang under the proverbial rug. But why was she crying now?

Before Blake could answer, however, the arm she had pushed away came back with a distracting vengeance. She found herself caught in a cuddle, Yang's strength proving incredible as this lithe Faunus woman was reduced to a mere teddy bear. In a way, this pull had been startling, if only by its suddenness, yet Blake smiled. What did it matter if she was crying? Yang had seen her cry before; in fact, she had only comforted Blake in those troubling times. As the unconscious tears dried and a conscious mind began to race, Blake allowed herself to be pulled against her partner and soon nuzzled against her fluffy, golden mane.

There was a faint chill to the air, something that would only worsen by stepping away from Yang's aura. Exactly how cold was it? For that matter, what time was it? Had Blake the ability to turn, she would have reached for her scroll and answered these questions. However, Yang was suffocating herself against her shoulder. Whether Blake liked it or not—and it is to say that she did, and very much so—neither was going anywhere.

As such, Blake breathed, resigning to her situation and speeding up the awakening process as feeling gradually returned to her body. First she felt her partner's legs, soft and toned and hugging her own, and the blanket around both sets which tied them together in a twisted mass of linen. She then felt her partner's arm, wrapped around her waist and with fingers clutching desperately to the silk on her back. With a comforter still draped over both and with Yang's nose buried deep in her partner's collar, the Faunus began to bask, to feel that joy which school mandates had long prohibited. She relaxed, closing her eyes again and letting those unintended tears simply disappear.

At some point between a second and blissful eternity, however, the fingers on Blake's back flexed. The Faunus could not have been happier.

Yang stirred, shifting her whole body around and, perhaps accidentally, pulling closer to the girl who now watched her. She mumbled something, grumbled something, and made a straining noise before a sigh marked her acceptance of being awake. She pulled away and tilted her head upwards. Sleepy lilac met half-lidded amber.

"Good morning, beautiful," Blake rasped, uncertain of her stolen line but happy with its effect.

The humored smile playing across Yang's lips, her uneager spite of all things morning, and the fact that she was here—not even an inch away—were, collectively, incredible. Seeing the blonde happy to be awake and knowing who had caused this happiness brought a heat to Blake's heart. "Hey yourself, gorgeous." Yang shifted in her partner's arms, sighing. "Is it next Friday yet?"

"No. It's still Saturday."

This received a hum.

Neither planned on going anywhere. Judging by the grey light streaming in through the windows, it could have been early in the morning or just a cold, cloudy day. Either way, there was nothing pressing to attend to yet. Blake could continue combing through Yang's hair and Yang could keep breathing in Blake's scent without worry. Eventually, they would need to get up and take Ruby shopping for Weiss' Christmas present, but it was early, they were tired, and the noises Yang made when nuzzling into her partner's chest were incentives enough to do nothing.

"How'd you sleep?" Yang yawned. "Hope I didn't snore too loud."

"Well," said Blake, minding her understatement. "I slept well."

"Dream anything?"

"Nothing bad."

"That's good." Yang's smile grew, head turning back up to show the Faunus that she was almost conscious. "Can't let you think about the bad things, right? Only sunshine and lollipops and killing giant, horrific monsters for the rest of our lives. Y'know. Happy thoughts."

Blake shook her head. Against her better wishes, she was waking up when all she wanted to do was remain in this tangled, tired huddle. "And what about you?" she asked, trying to stray from the inevitable question of "What next?" "Have any good dreams?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" Energy was building in the blonde's expression, becoming more Yang-like as the seconds ticked by. "But if you must know, yes, I did. And it was a _great_ dream."

"You're incorrigible."

"Nope! I just like you a lot. You're my dream girl." Yang then hugged her girlfriend tighter, evidently more enthused by a weekend at home than a weekday of work. Fortunately, Blake thought much the same and reciprocated, pulling the golden head into her shoulder and fighting back against Yang's now-wrestling legs.

The two were content to stay like this for a while, enjoying the morning's sloth and simply wallowing in their affections, and, as they did so, both the weights on their eyes and the fogs in their minds gradually dissipated. Seconds became minutes and the slightest movements translated into broad, lazy caresses. And although Yang lay atop her partner, Blake did not mind in the slightest. In truth, she felt great here, warm and snug and strong to be able to give back the closeness Yang had long offered. She kissed the blonde head. No matter the season, it felt great to be home.

Yang sighed in turn, tracing an aimless yet entirely conscious pattern into her girlfriend's back. Now the matter of the morning was that of detaching from each other and standing up. Realistically, this should have taken but a few seconds, but, ideally, they would cuddle all day. However, a curious sound came from the house and roused the Faunus' ears, leaving Yang comparatively deaf and unsuspecting. Blake turned her head, looking to the now open door and the ombré head peeking through.

Ruby raised a finger to her lips as Blake raised an eyebrow in reply.

The young girl entered, taking an especially un-Ruby sort of care in easing the door back on its creaky hinges. She let out a silent, dramatic sigh, beamed at the Faunus, and then began to move. On her toes she crept, inching forward in a cartoon villain's attempt at stealth, and approached the couple's bed. But some part of Blake was made nervous by this. Ruby had known for a while that Yang slept with her partner, but she now acted as though there were nothing wrong with interrupting their incredibly personal moment. For this reason, Blake blushed as her leader rounded the footboard and stood behind her sister.

She mouthed to Blake, "One, two, thr—" and then pounced onto the bed.

"Yang! Yang! Yang! Yang!" Ruby giggled, bouncing on the mattress. "Blake! Blake! Blake! Blake!"

In an instant, Yang was awake. She yelped, all but leaping off of the Faunus, before her head hit the headboard. She then lay wide-eyed and motionless on her own pillow, startled. However, as soon as she realized that the source of the surprise was, in fact, her sister, this surprise turned to annoyance and then to exasperation which could not slow the young girl's energy. Yang groaned. "Oh my God, you're worse than an alarm clock!" She began to kick her legs out, both trying and not trying to push her sister off. "Get out, you little jerk!"

"C'mon, Yang! Rise and shine! We gotta go _shopping_!"

Blake preemptively withdrew her legs from the coiling sheets. Ruby had to have known her sister well—they had, after all, spent their entire lives together—but perhaps mentioning shopping had been a lapse in judgment. Yang did not necessarily hate shopping, but it was hardly an event worth waking up for. Thus, a swift pillow hit Ruby's face with a _thwump_.

Her giggle only grew louder.

"No. I have to sleep," grumbled Yang. "And so does Blake."

"But it's already eleven!"

With a composing sigh, Blake sat up against the headboard. She pulled the comforter with her by unwitting instinct, ensuring her closed robe remained closed and as well covered amid this lighthearted company. "She's right," Blake said to Yang. "We have a busy day ahead, and sleeping it away won't do us much good."

The look Yang gave her was incredulous. "Oh, look at you two with your high-horse priorities. It's like you have your lives in order or something."

"C'mon! Weiss is gonna be here tomorrow! There's no time to waste!"

Blake simply smirked at her partner.

"Au contraire, Ruby Rose. We have three weeks to waste. And, besides, the whole argument of 'But Weiss!' isn't exactly helping your case. In fact," Yang put her arms behind her head, closed her eyes, and sighed a bit too contentedly, "it just makes me sleepier."

She yawned and was met promptly with a returned pillow to her face.

However, what Blake had assumed to be obstinacy for teasing's sake turned out to be honest disinterest as Yang hugged the thrown pillow and rolled over to rest atop it. She made a murmuring show of contentedness. "You guys can go on without me. Me and Mr. Nighttime have some catching up to do."

Suddenly, the mood changed—invisibly, subtly, but just as much sadly. This was not like Yang at all. Blake could understand her want for more sleep, but Yang was not one to go back on her word. She was nowhere near as zealous as Weiss in this regard, but it was in her character to be up for anything. Now, however, she was declining. Something was up, thought Blake.

"What?" Ruby all but gasped. "But we gotta! We won't have time after tomorrow!"

Yang waved a languid, dismissive hand. "I've already got Weiss' present. And yours. And Blake's. Now all I gotta do is make some calls and make everything final. But I need to do that while you guys aren't spying on me. _And_ we need to get groceries, so I'll take care of that, too." This was not a convincing argument in Blake's mind. Groceries and phone calls did not seem pressing enough to keep Yang from her sister. However, sensing this unease, the languid hand fell on the Faunus' leg. "You guys can take Bumblebee out for a spin if you want; I know you'll take good care of her. I'm gonna need the limo and all those nice, kind Schnee slaves to help me carry stuff in. You fine with that, kitten?"

"Not really," Blake understated.

"Aw, you'll be okay."

If Yang were to be both honest and outright with her intentions, one would assume eye contact would be established at some point during the conversation. But, as it was, she clung to her pillow, eyes closed as she spoke with fully awake clarity. Blake did believe her partner was hiding something, but she also believed that this something simply could not have been malicious. Eventually, Yang would let them know. Blake sighed and, begrudgingly, accepted.

Ruby was shocked. "Wait. Huh? How does that make sense? I thought we were all going together."

"The plan's changed," said Blake. "For whatever reason, it will just be you and me."

"But…I…Yang."

Looking down at the not-sleeping, not-tired, and not-forthcoming blonde, Blake had to agree. Avoiding this shopping trip—if avoiding was, in fact, what this was—did not reflect well on Yang's character. Blake would forgive her eventually and knew Ruby would as well, but the girl's absence would be disappointing. This was not to mention the inevitable hours Blake would have to spend with Ruby, whom she had hardly spent much time with before, and the dreaded driving of Bumblebee. But this was how it would have to be—Yang had her mind made up.

As if to convince everyone in the room of the decision's benignity, Blake found her closest hand combing through her girlfriend's hair. "I don't like this, but I trust you," she said. "However, we do have reservations for tonight, and I don't plan on you avoiding them, too."

"Don't worry about that. I'm just as excited as you are."

"So, I have your word we'll be there, then?"

"Blake, it'll be the first real date we've had in months. I'm not missing that for the world. But, right now, there's some pretty important stuff I need to take care of. While you guys are out doing your shopping, I'll be doing mine. And once we're all done, we can meet up here and figure out what to do from there."

Blake and Ruby looked at each other. Obviously, Yang knew what she was doing. She would be missed and there would be some unavoidable awkwardness because of her absence, but the look in Blake's eyes was assured, and this was seemingly enough for her leader. With a sad, almost whining sound, Ruby accepted the plan, too.

"You guys'll be fine." Yang's head left her pillow so she could smile at her friends. She was not tired, she was not regretful, but she did seem…warm. Proud was a better word, but it did not quite fit. With only a look, she gave her partner and her sister strength. "I know you'll find some awesome stuff together, and I'm kinda jealous about not going with you. Still, you'll thank me later."

Blake hoped so. Today would be neither difficult nor easy, but it would be a day without Yang. Ruby knew this well, as evidenced by her pleading frown, but she understood why her sister did what she did. Yang would have them believe that this was just another instance of selflessness—her own struggle in exchange for their happiness—but Blake knew that it was just as much selfish, though not in any bad way. Whatever Yang had in mind, it excited her enough to cancel today's plans. And, if Blake knew her well at all, this excitement would translate to some great, affectionate effect. Although Yang would be missed today, her absence paved the way for Christmas.

* * *

Blake had never complained about the cold. Growing up with the White Fang, there had not been a winter in the young Faunus' life where she found herself frequently indoors. Whether by Vale's mountain borders or in preparing for her inevitable Northern station, the cold was as much a part of her life as heat—although she did prefer the latter. She figured that if she could not see her breath, there was nothing worth worrying about, and such was her present situation. Blake stood in Yang's wide, uncluttered, and altogether welcoming garage-slash-workshop with her hands in her gifted jacket and eyes trained on Bumblebee.

The yellow bike, dormant and cold, seemed primed to pounce out of the doors ahead. As an inanimate object, there should have been nothing intimidating about it; however, as an inanimate object with a personal history, it was horribly intimidating. This bike had once been the catalyst for Blake's loss of cowardice—that is, her perceived loss of cowardice—but it was also the device by which she was shown her immature haste. She had driven Bumblebee once by herself, and she had crashed it. This most recent trust Yang placed in her to drive Ruby into Vale, then, was perhaps…misplaced.

Out of the Faunus' pants pocket, a key and card were pulled. She was not like Weiss—she did not want to lead. Being an individual or an inconspicuous part of a whole was all she wanted out of life now, and even if this trip with Ruby was a good way to bond as teammates, she alone held the responsibilities for both driving and their team's funds. In truth, Blake feared what she thought would be failure, but she feared Ruby's involvement even more. If she were to crash Bumblebee again despite Yang's late-summer tutelage and hurt Ruby in the process, Team RWBY and all the trust Yang had placed in her would be shattered.

By all means, there was no pressure whatsoever.

Her ears, bowless due to her relatively new ease in the city, perked at an approaching noise. The heavy door separating this garage from the rest of the house swung open, and out walked Ruby, her sister's sunny cheer shining through her expression and a backpack weighing heavily above her scythe. At first, the young girl did not say anything to Blake. She simply stepped out into the diminished cold and stood waiting beside the door.

For a moment, Blake wondered what the girl was stalling for. Then a separate noise sounded. Hopeful, the Faunus' eyes locked onto the open doorway and waited for a fully clothed Yang to walk out, ready to drive and take part in her sister's plans. However, while it was indeed Yang who appeared in the doorway, she instead stood dressed in her pajamas, holding a mug of coffee. At least, Blake thought amusedly, she was not going back to sleep.

The older sister clasped the younger's shoulder, hand coming to rest upon the unanticipated backpack's strap. "Ah, your first day of school," Yang sighed, jokingly wistful. "To be young again. Anyways, you be sure to behave yourself, okay? I don't want to hear about you causing trouble for Miss Belladonna." She then turned a wink on the Faunus. "And that is _Miss_ Belladonna, right? There's no mister in your life?"

"I thought you were sleeping."

"Oh, I will. But after I see little Ruby off to school."

"Yang!"

"You know how these rascals are. No sleep, ever." She snickered, tousling Ruby's hair. "I hope she won't be too much of a problem for you. We don't want to end up having a parent-teacher conference, now do we?" Her frown said no, but her eyes said yes.

Having had enough of this joke, Ruby struggled out of her sister's grasp. She fixed her hair, glared at the blonde for a moment, and turned away with an almost Weiss-like huff. Fortunately, she was still in good spirits. "Yeah, okay. Whatever, _mom_."

"Dude, now you're just making things weird."

All at once, the sisters began to move. Ruby, in her assumed cold, hurried across the concrete floor and towards the workbench against the back wall. Yang, meanwhile, strolled over to Blake with barefoot ease and simply sipped at her coffee, regarding the girl on the other side of her bike with a smirk. The blonde's free hand reached out and rubbed the Faunus' shoulder, raising the room's temperature and dispelling a great majority of her partner's worries. At last, Blake sighed. Yang was a lifesaver. Fortunately, Ruby had a similar effect upon reaching her teammate's side, black helmet already on her head and a second yellow one extended Blake's way. Together, the sisters made this impending process slightly more manageable.

"You'll do fine," Yang assured. "Just don't take her above third gear and avoid the highways. I know you can drive her, Blake; you've done it before. You're just out of practice right now, so take it easy. I know you'll do fine."

Blake frowned. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Oh, I'm sure I _do_ want to come. But I can't. Just trust me on this one. I need to make a few calls, and I need to make them _today_ , or else you guys won't be getting your presents." The hand on the jacketed shoulder drifted up to its owner's cheek, thumb brushing away a raven bang. Yang glanced at Ruby. "You two take care of each other, all right? I'm not gonna be there, so if anything happens—"

"No need to worry!" chirped Ruby. "If something happens, we've always got our guns."

Yang rolled her eyes. "All right, all right. I get it. I'm obsolete. You don't need me to hold your hands anymore." However, as she began to pull her hand from Blake's cheek, the Faunus caught it with a tilt of her head, holding its warmth in place. By her eyes alone, Blake asked one more time if Yang wanted to go, but, unfortunately, the blonde only smiled. "Be back by five. I promised we'd make up for lost times, and that's exactly what we're going to do."

There was no regret to be had for this two-person trip; merely, Blake knew she would miss Yang. As such, she gave a sad, assuring smirk and leaned across Bumblebee. The couple's kiss was short and light, but it aptly conveyed the Faunus' longing, albeit in spite of the abhorrent taste of coffee. As her taste buds revolted, Blake said, "And make sure you stay out of trouble, too, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

At this, Blake took Ruby's offered helmet and put it on, forcing her ears flush against her head before smiling at her partner—more so to assure herself than Yang. Ruby mounted the bike after Blake, taking a much less ginger approach. Whatever was in her backpack shook the bike as she jumped onto the back seat. Now sitting before Bumblebee's dashboard and with Ruby behind her, Blake's heart began to race again, knowing full well that she could be neither too fast nor too slow, too frightful nor too confident, or else this whole plan—this whole Christmas—would be ruined. But the young girl held on tight, wrapping her arms around Blake's waist, and this proved trusting enough for the Faunus to ignite Bumblebee's engine.

The bike grumbled awake. Something about this ignition and the trip becoming an inexorable reality was enough to push Blake's fears to the wayside, replacing worries and doubts with adrenaline and calm. Perhaps Yang had seen this change. Perhaps she grinned now because she could see something the others could not—she had always been oddly perceptive, after all. In actuality, however, Yang was proud, and Blake could feel the telling waves of heat radiating from her sunny form. For this reason, the girl in black opened the garage door, steeling herself against the oncoming winter, and shifted the bike into first gear. Yang nodded and then her Bumblebee roared.

The two of black and red, so far acquainted yet unfamiliar, moved slowly out onto the driveway then briskly out onto the road and, finally, quickly as their trip to Vale began.

However, the blonde's happy expression fell away as soon as the two were gone. She closed the garage door, headed back into her house, set her mug beside the exit, and slumped against the nearest wall, alone. Staring off at a point far beyond the opposite taupe, Yang hugged her knees to her chest.

"What am I doing?" she asked. "Oh my God, what am I doing?"

* * *

The drive had gone far better than expected, Blake having made only two minor slipups along the way. Her mistimed gear shift and subsequent shutoff had indeed been embarrassing, but, fortunately, nothing more than her pride had been hurt. For this only being her second lengthy drive and for not having her own driver's license yet, Blake thought this ride had gone spectacularly, allowing that shifting error to fall quickly from her memory. She and Ruby had since arrived in midtown Vale—an entirely new district for the Faunus—and were nearing an empty parking spot between two expensive-looking and, consequently, dentable town cars.

Focusing on her remaining adrenaline, Blake pushed past her doubts, eased the bike into a slow, and parked with minimal error. As soon as Bumblebee was turned off and her balancing gyroscope turned on, Ruby released the Faunus from her hug. She sighed happily.

The idea of coming to midtown had been hers. This, as she claimed, was where both Yang and Weiss' gifts would be found the easiest. Admittedly, navigating this unknown part of the city had been difficult—especially with Ruby giving contradicting directions and getting Blake turned around in the process—but the young girl seemed happy with where they had stopped. She slipped out of her helmet and dismounted from the bike.

"All right, Blake," she said, fixing her hair and shrugging her shoulders at her backpack's untold weight. "Not bad! We made it _and_ we're not dead. That's worth celebrating, right?" Her helmet was pushed against the bike's tail until it locked with a magnetic _click_.

The Faunus glanced at her leader, lifting Yang's goggles and unbuckling her chinstrap. "By shopping," she rebutted dryly. "Some celebration that is." She then lifted her own helmet. The ears atop her head sprang free, perking first to the thousand conversations, footsteps, and car engines surrounding her and then shuddering to a vacantly chilling breeze. Regardless of her reaction, however, this air and circumstance felt nice and brisk.

However, Ruby paid little mind to Blake's joke. She was in Vale now and had a task ahead of her. Therefore, when Blake turned back, after having secured her own helmet, she found that the younger girl was wandering away.

Weiss had warned about this tendency some months ago. Ruby enjoyed exploring despite her untrained navigational ability—or, in the heiress' words, despite her being bad with directions—and this had led to more than a few stories of Weiss' ire. Doubtlessly, Ruby knew what she was doing and where she wanted to go, but Blake also knew that if their drive into the city were any record to reference, then losing this wandering girl would only make finding her an unneeded difficulty. Rather than allowing Ruby to stray too far, Blake pocketed Yang's keys in the blonde's gifted jacket, got off Bumblebee, and jogged after the girl in red.

Fortunately, she was not hard to catch up to. The zigzagging route Ruby took in and around the oncoming foot traffic was slow and easy enough to follow. Neither mentioned the wandering or the quickly finished chase, instead looking out at the city in search of their respective wants.

Midtown was not nearly as crowded as downtown, which stood radiantly beyond the immediate shoppes and townhouses with its mirrored glass towers, nor was it as sparse or green as the largely residential uptown. The buildings here were short—two or three stories at most. The walkways were thin and reflected the adjoining one-way road. And the interspersed shade trees, placed at short intervals and with wilting shrubs there beneath, lent falling leaves to the sidewalk, coating an otherwise cold grey with warm, rattling browns, oranges, and reds. By no means was winter unpleasant. Weiss might have despised the cold, and Blake could agree in some higher elevations and latitudes, but, as it was, the Faunus found herself enjoying this walk, simply wandering with Ruby and not saying a word.

As they passed by storefronts boasting magical trainsets and exorbitant dresses, freshly baked pastries and newly forged swords, Blake simply watched the girl ahead of her. With wide silver eyes, blind to the stares and tensions around her, Ruby looked on in sincere amazement. Every so often, she would distract herself in these swords and pastries, salivating equally for both, before forcing herself to pass in search of something for Weiss. She seemed eager to scan each and every potential gift she passed—Christmas must have been so exciting for her.

Ever since she and Blake had first met, there had not been a single moment of hesitance to the young girl's ease. Ruby had been kidnapped by the White Fang, caught in a Schnee Dust explosion, and more or less interrogated by Professor Goodwitch, yet she had survived with an undisturbed smile. Whether this was due to strength, luck, or a shielding ignorance was, frankly, beside the point of her characterization. Ruby was all of these traits, and no matter which one had saved her from past struggles mattered little to Yang and Weiss. She was a child and a leader, a monster slayer and future adventurer, and no matter where she went or what she did, Blake knew Ruby would always be the habitually kind sister-friend she currently was. Perhaps that was what Yang and Weiss saw in her. Perhaps they had been charmed and enthralled by her earnest youth and wanted to protect her thusly. As for Blake, she could sympathize.

Ruby suddenly stopped a ways ahead, leaving the Faunus momentarily stunned as she realized that she had lost herself in thought. Beyond the pane of mirror-polished glass was a display of rifles and components and all the springs and motors unique to Vale's weaponry. Ruby did not grin at these or daydream of their potentials. She simply smiled, nodded, and entered the gun store.

It quickly became apparent that this trip had not been planned for Blake at all. This was, essentially, an errand trip for Ruby. But this was not a problem. Blake's gifts were already prepared—rather, mostly prepared—and made the previously assumed task of aiding Ruby a much clearer objective. This was Yang's sister and a friend of Blake's own, and if the girl wanted to go on a shopping trip, then the Faunus would not be one to deny her, even if the thought of retail crowds was unsettling. She followed after her leader, pushing the shop's door open, and was greeted by a bell's chime.

Standing at a central glass counter, Ruby waved Blake over. There was no clerk in sight, no other shoppers in the shelves or by the Dust wall. As it was, the two were seemingly alone yet waited patiently for something to happen.

"Sorry I had to rope you into this," Ruby said. "I know how much you don't like shopping, so I'll try to be quick—"

Blake shook her head. "Don't worry. Take your time and find the right gifts." The young girl looked like she wanted to object, but this would not do. "Ruby, it's not that I don't like shopping. It's…" It was that she did not like clothes shopping. But this was unfair; if a clothing store were to be as small as this gun store, then there would be no problem at all. She tried a smile. "It's that I like my books better."

Surprisingly, this earned a giggle. "Nah. You and Yang are both the same. If I wanted to get another shirt or something, I'd have to bring Weiss with me because I know _she'd_ actually like waiting!" She rang a bell that sat upon the counter for, assumingly, the second time and then looked to Blake, a level-with-me look in her eye. "But, like, just off the record, there aren't any new books out that you'd want, are there?"

The girl in black hesitated. For a moment, she thought of dismissing the question and saying that receiving nothing would be fine, but the idea of nothing would never be fine. At least not for the sisters. "Well, if you're looking for suggestions, my mom recently sent me a list of books she recommends."

"Cool! Think I could have a copy when we get back?"

"Sure. I'll print one—"

The two were then interrupted by a noise at the back of the store. It was nothing threatening or surprising in the least. Simply, the noise was of the store owner, tired, grey, and visibly frazzled. Nevertheless, the man moved swiftly—almost eagerly—from the store's backroom to the register before Ruby.

The girl in red, however, paused.

She was tongue tied, uncertain, her eyes wide before the man's figurative headlights. Gulping, she looked to Blake, who, in turn, was just as reluctant. The two simply stared, silently shouting at each other to say something. Although Blake would usually claim not to be awkward or socially inept in any way, this present situation saw her in a shamefully contradicting light. She could not talk, she could not move; the conversational energy that she usually drew from Yang and Weiss was nonexistent here.

But she was stronger than she used to be—that had been the point of her summer. With a deep sigh and a steeling of her nerves, she pushed aside thoughts of potential prejudice and general unfamiliarity to focus on Ruby's task. "Good morning," she said to the clerk, stammering at first but maintaining her composure.

She received a voiceless hum in reply.

"Uh, we—I mean, my friend and I—are looking for Christmas presents for our other friends." Blake turned to her leader, asking, "Right?"

No one moved for five long seconds. Ruby watched her teammate, glanced at the clerk, and watched her teammate once again. Her face was burning red. "I, umm, yeah…" Reaching into her belt pocket, she pulled out an index card with an indiscernible list written in blue ink.

The man looked at the paper for a moment, squinted, and walked away with no more acknowledgment than a nod. At this, Ruby released a long-held sigh.

"Well," she then said, suddenly cheerful, "that went better than expected!"

Blake raised a disbelieving brow. "Wait. What _did_ you expect to happen?"

"That we wouldn't actually get anything here. That I'd actually have to say something and end up going to a different store. It's always like that, you know? Sometimes someone wants to talk to me—and you know how great I am at talking with strangers—so it gets really, really, _reeeaaally_ awkward, and I end up having to get Yang to talk for me, and sometimes she doesn't get the right stuff because I need some pretty specific parts, so I have to write down what I want and—" Ruby interrupted herself with a gasp for air. She frowned, smiled, and sighed again at Blake's patient expression. "Sorry about buying this stuff in front of you. I'm probably spoiling your present, aren't I?"

"Probably," admitted Blake. "But I don't mind. Besides, I'm sure Yang and Weiss already knew you'd shop here. Or, at least, someplace like here."

"Yeah. And Weiss is gonna know anyways because we're paying with her card."

The Faunus smirked for a moment before her look fell away to her general composure. "Ruby, what are you buying me? I'm not questioning your knowledge of weapons, I'm just wondering—"

"If I know _your_ weapon?" This question received a nod. This nod received a grin. "I'm pretty sure you fire .45 ACP, probably with a low-middle grain, and use about…eh, maybe two hundred rounds per mission—though, I know you could use more. You keep your chamber clear but your safety off at night and when you're walking around. And, most importantly, you had to deal with the White Fang's weak steel when you made your sword but probably had access to all the guns they stole, which is probably why you have that modified Wilson frame and—"

Blake shook her head, fending off an amused laugh. "Showoff."

"Yeah. Maybe a little." Ruby leaned forward against the glass counter. No signs of worry seemed to plague her anymore, leaving only confidence derived from talking about her life's greatest passion. She turned a similarly amused look on the Faunus. "But I _have_ to know that stuff. I mean, it's probably not a surprise, but I'm getting you guys stocking stuffers—magazines, shell strips, Dust vials—and it's probably not the best idea to go out and buy that stuff without knowing the caliber or gauge or…uh, whatever Myrtenaster uses."

"That's…" Blake had to admit this was more than a little kind. The pendant she had given Yang was expensive and pretty, sure, but it was just jewelry. Certainly, it held sentimental value, but if Blake were to be given something of the same kind, she would just as certain feel guilty. The idea of magazines, though, was oddly… "Considerate. That's really considerate of you, Ruby."

"Nah, it's nothing," the young girl said as an aw-shucks blush burned across her cheeks.

A huntress could never own enough magazines; even Weiss, the most detail-oriented member of their team, had broken and lost her share of vials on missions and in transit. If this was Ruby's idea of a secondary, less important present, then Blake had to wonder what her primary gift would be or what Yang—the girl who had likely taught Ruby how to choose gifts—was calling about at this very moment. The Faunus wondered, then, what constituted a primary gift in the sisters' minds. There was nothing she truly wanted, but she could hardly imagine what the sisters believed she needed.

The idea of Christmas seemed a little brighter now and alluringly mysterious.

However, she was pulled from her reverie and, likewise, Ruby from her confidence. The clerk shuffled back to the counter, arms filled with everything Ruby had asked for. Six shell strips for Yang, twelve Dust vials for Weiss, and five magazines for Blake. When the man looked to Ruby for her approval, she hesitated but did nod quickly.

Now all Blake needed to do was pay. For a brief moment, she smirked at the thought of buying her own gift, but she composed herself and withdrew from her jacket's pocket a snow white card.

The clerk looked to Blake, then to her card, and then back to Blake. He seemed uneasy but nevertheless let the Faunus slide her team's funds through the counter's terminal. He furrowed his brows, pressing a button on his register which, fortunately, prompted the girls for a signature. Fraudulent though it was, both Blake and Yang had memorized the heiress' signature—though, Blake did have the regrettable excuse of a past war against her family—and thus the former was able to sign in effortless cursive, "Weiss S."

With a cheery beep, the terminal completed her transaction.

Then, in less than a minute, the two returned to the city's winter. A refreshingly cold breeze rushed by the standing duo, fluttering Ruby's cape and plastic bag. She sighed, happy to be away from cashiers and all that horrible, terrible small talk. "Well, I'm glad that's out of the way," she seemed to say to herself. "Now comes the hard part."

"Hard part?"

"Weiss." Despite the supposed difficulty, Ruby sounded eager, as though her girlfriend's present were a challenge she could not wait to overcome. "That, and we've got a bit of a walk ahead of us before we can get to Yang's present."

"Then we might as well start walking. I assume you know the way?"

"Uh, kinda?"

"And do you know what you want to get Weiss?"

"Not really…"

"Good," Blake said, earning her leader's confusion. "Neither does Yang, so at least we'll have _something_ to keep us occupied." She tucked her hands into her gifted jacket's pockets and warmed to this time and temperature. Ruby nodded at her, seeming to understand, and turned towards the oncoming foot traffic, setting forth with Blake in tow.

Rather than letting this journey consist again of one follower and her wandering leader, though, the two decided to wander together. With the wind at their backs, they moved away from Bumblebee and the gun store, staying close to the stores and the spotless exhibits within. This was not the high-fashion district of Vale. For designer brands, Ruby would need to visit downtown with someone more literate of what could be considered fashionable. As it was, however, the shops beside the two were intriguing. Ball gowns, wedding dresses, and even the more casual outfits in the windows proved surprisingly appealing—they looked tolerable, Blake thought, and her fleeting glance at a black cowl gown made her wonder what Yang would think.

Ruby, meanwhile, was not shopping for herself. Her eyes were trained on the passing displays, but Blake could see her brows press together as she pictured a certain somebody wearing everything they passed.

"Do you think she will want a dress?" Blake mused.

"Huh?" asked Ruby, pulled from her thoughts. "What'd you say?"

"Do you think Weiss would want another dress? If there's anything she has an abundance of, it's clothes, so I have to wonder what she actually _needs_."

The young girl paused. "Umm…Yeah, I guess."

This was followed by a disappointed sigh, which made Blake wince. She had made a mistake, spoken too much. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to say that. I'm sure Weiss will like whatever you get her, even if it is another dress. You know her better than I do."

"You really think so?" Although disbelief was peeking through her phrasing and tone, a smile formed on Ruby's lips. This allowed Blake to relax.

"Absolutely. All she and I talk about are books, work, and, for lack of a better term, morality. You two are better friends than she and I will ever be."

Ruby looked up at the Faunus. "But I just don't know what to get her. I mean, what does Weiss like? She likes history, so…a map? Or what about a phone or something? It'd be pretty expensive, but she spends all her free time writing e-mails, so…"

"Ruby, I couldn't tell you. The only thing I know with all certainty about Weiss is that she values quality. No matter what Yang says, Weiss doesn't go out and buy the most expensive things she can. No Schnee does that."

"Yeah. I still don't get why Yang doesn't like her." The girl in red looked down at the pavement and frowned until, suddenly, an idea came to mind. Her eyes lit up and turned back to the Faunus, silver orbs dancing as they told of youthful zeal. "What about you? What are you gonna get Yang? Maybe if I know what you guys are doing, I can get an idea of—"

"It's…complicated," interrupted Blake, clutching at the inside of her pockets.

"Well, then could you explain it to me?"

"Ruby…"

"Yeah?"

"I'd rather not. Sorry, but I'm not sure if my gift is good enough yet. Right now, I'd rather keep it to myself." This silenced the cheer in Ruby's eyes, lowering her energy back down to the hopeless frown of before and thereby sending a regretful pang through Blake's heart. "But," the Faunus continued, trying to be somehow helpful, "I can tell you why I'm getting her what I am. Perhaps by my thinking aloud, you might figure something out."

"You really think that'll work?"

"It _could_."

With her eyes lingering on a passing blue-white dress, Ruby nodded. It could not be said that she was desperate for an answer. Indeed, she wanted to keep her team—and, most importantly, Weiss—happy, but it was by no means a stressful matter. Ruby would be content to listen, to learn. And although Blake was not entirely sure how she had arrived upon the idea of Yang's present, she figured something useful could arise from her aimless monologues.

Blake began in her most certain voice, "The thought began in some unimportant minute on some unimportant day. It could have been caused by a color or a shape, but I don't really remember. All I know is that something happened, and then an idea came to me." Ruby looked on with rapt attention, momentarily distracted from her window shopping by this unintended literation. "This was in the fall. Just as we were beginning a new semester, I had this idea and took hold of it without much thought. It just seemed so important and pressing that every other obligation fell away so I could work towards that idea. The mere thought of the 'perfect gift' was exciting, and that's why I chased it. But how it came to mind? It was purely by circumstance."

They were passing another toy store, its window flashing with the ravenous flurry of children beneath their parents' gaze. The way they all watched the fantastically rickety trainsets, the staggeringly lifelike dollhouses, and the ongoing swordfights between little boys and girls was rejuvenating in an, admittedly, forlorn way. "I was talking to Yang at the time," continued Blake, watching the children play. "She and I were slow to leave Professor Oobleck's class one day when, out of nowhere, she decided that we should spy on the first-year mission in Forever Fall. It was the same trip Professor Goodwitch took us on. And when we got there and hid together in the trees, something struck me."

"Like what?"

"Like…Like who Yang was."

Ruby laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like her—hates history so much she has to get herself in trouble. So, what'd you think she was like? I mean, what did you see?"

The toy store passed and then came a series of uninteresting restaurants. Blake turned her gaze back to her leader. "It's…a little hard to explain. I _could_ tell you that she's adventurous or impulsive, or that she's a woman-child or a voyeur, but that wasn't what I saw then. I saw Yang. And the idea of 'Yang,' to me at least, was the idea of getting fed up with one thing and doing something so stupidly dangerous to offset it that everything turns out just fine."

"Story of our lives, huh?"

"Yeah, unfortunately." Blake had to smile. She was projecting. Either she and Yang were bad influences on each other or they were simply too good for each other. Regardless, this story sounded funny now that she was telling it.

"So, basically, you weren't looking for it, but the idea just came to you?" Ruby asked. "Like, just…poof? No work or anything?"

"No, there was a lot of work. There was _definitely_ a lot of work." Blake sighed, allowing a conversational weariness to make itself clear in her tone. The fact that she had accomplished what she did within a single semester, even if it would never amount to much, was something to be proud of. "The idea was simple—it was just Yang. The gift, on the other hand…"

"So, what you're saying is that I have to get a gift that 'is' Weiss? That I have to get something that's…like her?" With a nod from the girl in black, Ruby was stumped. She put a hand to her chin and her eyes to the passing ground, ravenous aspirations now constrained to a laser-beam focus on something yet unreachable.

Her success, however, was inevitable. There was something about these sisters—something endearingly unempirical and quantum—that guaranteed their victories, and Blake had long since found faith in that impossible force. Whether by luck or ability, merit or circumstance, the sisters lost only the smallest, most insignificant battles in life's greater war. Ruby would make a bad first impression but end up dating the girl who had hated her for it. Yang could take a punch, hit back twice has hard, and come out unscathed. In this way, the younger girl would not find Weiss' gift immediately. Although blessed, Ruby was simply not clairvoyant. But she would think and stare, gripping the bag in her hands tight as her eyes darted back and forth, considering options of growing importance and eventually grumbling at their fruitless competitions.

Blake smiled at this, nostalgic. Although her gift idea had developed without much pain, she still remembered the day of shopping for Yang's pendant—the options, the contradictions, the dealing with Weiss. And, in remembering, she felt obliged to help. "Well," she began, easing Ruby out of her frustrations, "think about this: Who is Weiss to you? Who _is_ Weiss?"

Ruby paused. She opened her mouth, made a small, uncertain noise, and bit her tongue. "Well, she's…uh…She's Weiss. You know what I mean? She's smart. And talented. And maybe a little bit mean sometimes, but I know she really doesn't like it. Weiss is…just great—because she has to be. Weiss has to be great all the time and be the best at everything because her entire life depends on it. If she's not the best, then her dad won't like her. But if she _is_ the best, then the world won't like her. Or that's what she says."

"But who is she to you?"

"To me? She's my friend—" Ruby shook her head suddenly. "I mean, my girlfriend! Sorry." There was no judgment cast on her mistake, but still she felt the need to scratch her neck. "She's like a little project that I get to work on every day, making her nicer and just happier in general, but she's also a really good person. You and Yang are good, too, but Weiss tells me when I'm doing something wrong. She tells me I'm making mistakes and corrects my grammar and tells me what I probably shouldn't do. She helps—like, a lot. And I help her, too, I hope."

"You do. Even if the school doesn't know you're dating, they can see Weiss improving."

"Yeah, but that could just be her. She doesn't really need us to be successful. It's pretty awesome how she knows what she's doing all the time—like, you've seen her schedules, right? They're down to the minute! And she's making straight A's. And she's one of the best swordfighters at the school. And she's pretty much queen of the student government without actually being in it. We're just here as backup!"

Had these words come from anyone else, they would have been bitter. But Ruby was excited. That Weiss was self-motivated and distant seemed incredibly cool to the young girl. Weiss, in Ruby's mind, was a great general in the making, an aloof protagonist destined to save the world through her clever, war-avoidant means. It is to say that Blake did not agree with this assessment, but it was true enough to Ruby.

"I think you're underplaying your role, though," insisted the Faunus. Ruby raised a brow to her, silently trying to diminish the coming compliment, but Blake dismissed this. "Everyone needs a good friend, Ruby. You do, Yang does, and I know that I was looking for one the entire time I was with the White Fang. I also know that Weiss sees you as her one good friend. She might be able to do great things on her own, but she can't go on forever without a lifeline."

"And I'm her…lifeline?"

The question was met with a smirk. "You know she'd never let me say that."

"Yeah," Ruby sighed. "So, I _might_ be?"

"You might. Just, you know, hypothetically."

They shared a knowing look. Doubtlessly, the younger couple cared for each other—with two persons so socially starved, common ground was inevitable. However, watching them find that ground was frustrating. Weiss was so reluctant to admit approval of her partner that she occasionally seemed like the same antagonist she had been one year ago. Ruby, in turn, relegated herself to more of a friendship role than the girlfriend she truly was. They did like each other and visibly yearned to grow closer, but their inability to do so had been silently grating on the Faunus for the longest time. To some extent, this was why Blake helped her leader. Of course, Ruby was her friend and Yang's sister, but Blake wanted to see her reluctant teammates find happiness.

In this time of contemplation and the duo's return to window shopping, Ruby fell back on her silence. Gears were spinning behind her curious eyes—rather, springs and levers: a pin to caps and those caps to the ignitions of round after round of dud ideas. But she was happy to fire these duds. They were problems to solve, games to win, and she smiled thusly. This led Blake to ask, "So, if you're her lifeline, then who is she to you?"

"My friend," answered Ruby, calmly and without a second guess. "She's my friend. My girlfriend. My…Well, I've never been that good at metaphors, but she's…my…

"Well, the single-word description isn't what's important."

The two arrived at an intersection—the end of their sidewalk and a divide which Ruby meant to cross. Steam billowed from each and every car as they passed forwards and leftwards, leaving a low haze as they rolled by, while those gathering beside the crosswalk, shivering in their puffy jackets, wheezed the same smoke. As Blake and Ruby approached this small crowd, an unfair yet entirely expected number of looks were sent Blake's way. With her ears unhidden and a non-Faunus child by her side, sidelong glances were all but unavoidable. But now, with Ruby at her side and with Yang's jacket holding her warmly, these glances meant little. She and Ruby simply moved into the crowd, paying no mind to those who stepped away, and continued their conversation happily enough.

"Maybe." Ruby looked up at her teammate, smiling. "But what about Yang? Don't you know who she is? Don't you have a one-word description for her?"

"For Yang?"

"Yeah! 'Cause, like, you guys are totally _in love_! So, you must have _something_ to say about her."

"Ruby, the one-word description really isn't important."

"Yeah, but still…"

The cars on both roads slowed to collective, creaking halt. And just as soon, a light across the divide signaled for the crowds to pass. Ruby and Blake kept their direction and continued down this uptown road.

In doing so, Blake was given the chance to consider her leader's request. Ruby had certainly heard enough stories from Yang to be well versed in her relationship, and Blake had even offered her own perspective on a few of the tales. By all means, Ruby already had an idea of what Blake thought of the blonde, and admitting the corrected degree would hardly be embarrassing.

"Well," Blake began, not quite as uncertain as her tone suggested, "she's indescribable. Almost everything I knew about her from when we first met has changed. Part of me, I suppose, is disappointed by that, but another part of me could not be happier. For the longest time, I had thought that Yang was boisterous and irresponsible, and so I came to expect that from her. But then we talked. One day, we just sat down and had a conversation for some reason, and I realized that she definitely _could_ be loud and impulsive, but, most of the time, she wasn't. She's…happy, I guess. Optimistic without naivety."

"That's Yang, all right." Sighing, Ruby squinted at the crowds ahead, searching for something. "I just wish she didn't have to act happy _all_ the time. I mean, we almost lost her because she couldn't stop acting like that."

"Ruby, I don't think that's why she ran. And I don't think she's truly acting, either. Yang gets to train for her dream job with her sister at her side. Really, I think she _is_ happy most of the time, but she also has a problem with pain. What happened last summer was just," Blake paused, trying to find the right word, but ultimately settled on the inaccurate, "guilt. She thought she was getting in our way and, to fix it, she kept pushing herself away. She's her own worst enemy."

Ruby was silent to this. Nothing about her expression seemed to show an urge to talk. This must have been a difficult subject for her. As such, Blake pushed the conversation back to positivity and praise.

"But that's what makes her special. She wants to have fun, make others happy; but she doesn't let one interfere with the other. Sure, she has moments where her balance is thrown off, but who doesn't? To be honest, she handled that situation better than I would have—better than I _did_ —and now I'm just lucky to have her—as a partner and as a friend. I've needed this sort of positivity in my life, Ruby, and she—as well as you and Weiss—have made my time here a lot easier." Amber eyes drifted to the sidewalk below, Blake's lips falling to a momentary frown. Past stressors gripped her throat. All those responsibilities, all those treasonous expectations were not lost to her memory—she could still feel them pressing on her from every side. But she smiled in spite of these stressors, warm under her partner's leather and happy to be home. This smile found its way to Ruby. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

With a dismissive wave, Ruby assured, "Nah, don't worry about it. Blake rambles are the best rambles." She then sighed wistfully. "I wish Weiss would ramble sometimes."

"I imagine you have a reason for that."

"Well, she's kinda like Yang. She doesn't talk about herself a lot. Yeah, she likes to brag sometimes and is kinda up-front about how great she is, but she doesn't really talk about _herself_ —what she likes, what she hates, what she does for fun. But you and Yang, you guys like stuff—you'll ramble about stuff. And it's pretty cool that I'm not the only person who does that."

Ruby shook her head, smile fading. "Sometimes I think Weiss just doesn't like stuff. Everything's gotta be a schedule or a plan, a win or a loss. I mean, I think she likes history and art, but, well, I can't get her to ramble about them. If I ask for help, she'll talk until I get an answer, but then she just…stops. She'll pack up her books and go do something else—like, she doesn't want to talk after that! Just…Blake, do you think everything's all right with Weiss?"

She was rambling, too. Honestly, Blake found it endearing how she would bear her worries to a girl she had spent hardly any time with. In some ways, Blake felt like her team's confidante, having earned the candid trust of all of her teammates now. However, she shook this thought off and smiled, hoping to come off as reassuring. "Do you mean in Atlas or in general?"

"Kinda…both."

"Then yes. I don't think Weiss would have her life any other way." Ruby looked to the Faunus, hopeful yet speculative. "In Atlas, she's at home. She knows her way around all the obstacles there, and she must be fairly competent at avoiding them, or else she wouldn't have made it to Beacon in the first place. Whatever's happening between her and her father is likely nothing more than routine. Though, you'd know better than me."

In truth, Blake was familiar with the Schnee family—it had been part of her job in the White Fang—but all the dossiers and rumors in the world could not break Kaiser Island's shroud of isolation. For that matter, documented intelligence was incomplete; personal experience painted a better-detailed picture, and thus she could not speak for Weiss' recently changed emotional state. She could, however, speak for Ruby's sake. "But as for her not liking anything, I don't think that's true at all. She appreciates things in a different way, Ruby. Some people just don't like to ramble or share their thoughts, and I know Weiss wouldn't open her mouth unless she had a reason to do so."

Ruby groused, "Yeah, I know. Just…I mean, I'm not disappointed or anything like that. I just want to hear what she has to say. But she doesn't say much except what we have to do."

"Weiss _will_ open up. You two spent all of last night texting each other, and you know she wouldn't do that with anyone else. She might be cold, Ruby, but she does like you."

Suddenly, the young girl gasped. Her eyes went wide, her feet stopped moving, and her mouth hung open at an idea Blake could not fathom. "Oh. Blake? I think…I think I have an idea of what I'm gonna get Weiss." Her eyes turned to the Faunus, showing a dazzling brightness that seemed to cheer, "I'm a genius, Blake! I have the best idea ever!" And, not a moment later, Ruby rushed at her teammate, nearly tackling the girl in tan and black with a hug as she jumped up and down. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Weiss is _sooo_ gonna love this idea! It's, like, _her_!"

As the two stood halted in the middle of the sidewalk, they were given confused looks by those who passed them by. The equally confused Faunus was at first taken aback by the squealing, cheering girl, being uncertain of where this reaction had come from. However, she would hug her leader back, not quite sure how else to respond. Passerby looks were still given to her—to her position, to her ears—and she would be lying to say that these looks did not faze her. But she did return Ruby's hug, knowing that it was the right thing to do.

"May I ask what your idea is?"

Ruby shook her head into Blake's jacket before pulling away. "Nope! This one's a secret!" she singsonged. "It's good, though. It's gonna be really, _really_ good." Her grin was brilliant, cheeks rosy under this brisk city wind, and the auric energy radiating from her was electrifying—a low, skin-level tingle that washed over the Faunus and made the passersby step ever so quicker. Her day had been made. In that moment of gift-searching clarity, Ruby had forgotten all about Weiss' obstacles in Atlas and had, unsurprisingly, moved the Faunus' smile.

"C'mon!" Ruby urged. "Let's go get Yang's present, and then we can get home. Then you guys can go out and stuff."

The girl increased her pace, looking over her shoulder at the still halted Blake in a playful plea for a chase. But Blake would not run. The Faunus simply walked as that alien heat in her heart subsided. The feeling was not love—it was much too distinct from the powerless awe she felt at Yang's company—but it was definite affection. Irrespective of Yang's approval, helping Ruby just seemed like the right thing to do. It felt good to see her happy. As such, Blake tucked her hands into her jacket pockets and followed the girl in red to the end of the walk.

One block and a right turn later, the streets of crawling, steaming cars dead-ended and were replaced by equally trafficked promenades—long stretches of wet, cobbled roads bordered on either side by shorter shops which the many pedestrians flowed easily between. It was a strip mall of sorts, a festive shopping center open to the winter breeze, and Ruby was eager to join its masses. Blake followed close behind, stepping from the greyer sidewalk to the warmer, whiter paths.

"C'mon!" the young girl called, looking back at Blake and seamlessly maneuvering through the crisscrossing shoppers. "It's just up ahead. Not much further!" She then turned forward and smiled, increasing her pace and veritably skipping beside her freshly formed idea.

Quite honestly, Blake felt excited about her leader's idea. Indeed, she was curious as to what the gift was, but this curiosity proved comparatively insignificant to the excitement she felt for Yang's reaction. If Ruby was this happy, then Yang would undoubtedly glow. Moreover, this thought of Yang's tenfold jubilation was inspiring, making Blake's book idea seem a lot more viable. For this reason, the Faunus would hold her enthusiasm dear and chase after the girl in red.

The strands of lights strung between the buildings seemed to glitter while the red and green ornaments shone a little brighter. Christmas was coming, and Blake was excited. Excited! It was hard to believe, but a happy, festive urge was rising in the back of her mind, and that book and Ruby's secret and Yang's own and the untouched subject of Weiss' choices were only just within reach of her adventurous curiosity.

Her eyes began to wander. The scarves and the hats and the steam that billowed in clouds from the groups—the friends, the couples, the families—who spoke of the bags in their hands were, collectively, Christmas. All the colorful lights, dancing snowmen, and red and white caps were a testament to something larger than mere sociality—something that these people all bought into. And it was interesting. Intoxicating. Just as how Yang's heat urged a smile and Ruby's energy quickened Blake's step, this communal aura—if she could use a somewhat applicable term—was affective. Walking down this wintry promenade, Blake did not feel cold; passing the smiling, greeting shoppers, Blake did not feel quiet; and by following Ruby past the lights and colored streamers, her leader's goal became her own.

The shop they arrived upon was both nondescript and unexpected. Amid toyshops and jewelers, clothiers and restaurants was neither a weapon store nor any place Blake expected Yang to shop—if anyone could shop here at all. It was a sliver of a store, stuck between two franchises, and on its door was no identifying mark of any kind. Yet Ruby motioned for Blake to follow her in.

"Ruby, what is this place?"

"Weiss referred me!" The girl pushed through the glass door, holding it for the Faunus who stepped in behind her. The store's interior was just as inconspicuous as its exterior. Only a single counter close to the far back wall and an inventory of empty picture frames to either side were the clues to what this place was. Ruby seemed confident. "We kinda had to do some research on which place was the right place, and, well, here we are!"

"That didn't answer my question."

A man sat behind the back counter, old and grey but immediately more receptive than the last. He waved at the hesitant but wholly interested two. "Welcome!"

Surprisingly, Ruby did not react. Rather, she did, but not in any way that Blake had expected. "Hi! Uh, this is Pete's Prints, right?" She was speaking, and to a stranger no less. Certainly, this was not impossible—Ruby had been raised by Yang, after all, and had somehow befriended Weiss of all people—but compared to how she faced the last store's owner, this exchange was…unprecedented.

"Sure is! Looking to get something printed?"

"Yeah! Well, kinda. It's actually…" Ruby glanced over at Blake. She thought for a moment, simply staring as she did so, before shrugging and turning back to the clerk. "Well, I'll just let you take a look at it."

"Would you like me to wait outside?" Blake asked.

Both the man and Ruby looked at her almost worriedly. "Nah, you can stay," answered Ruby. "I guess I can't keep you hanging on _two_ secrets. Come on, I'll show you what I'm gonna get Yang."

Maybe this was Ruby's roundabout way of saying, "Please stay. I need backup." Or, more likely, Blake had been a bit too cynical in her assumptions. Sure, the girl was supposed to be awkward and had proven herself so in the last store, but she seemed natural now. Something was driving her. Perhaps it was Weiss, perhaps it was Yang, or perhaps it was Ruby, herself, who compelled this regularly awkward child into unafraid conversation. Regardless of why Blake had been wrong, the Faunus shook her head and moved to stand at her friend's side.

The backpack Ruby carried was shrugged off as the plastic bag was given to Blake. A heavy _thump_ shook the wooden counter as whatever was in her backpack was set quickly, and therefore regrettably, down. Ruby sighed, looked at her teammate, and found the resolve needed to open her bag's main compartment. Just as slowly, a wide, tall, and altogether disorganized binder was placed on the counter.

"A photo album," the clerk surmised, audibly interested. "And I take it this is for Christmas? So, you're gonna need it quick."

Ruby ignored him for a moment, running a hand over the faded, brown cover. She lifted it, revealing what she and the man had already seen but what Blake was only now witnessing. Amber eyes trained immediately on a yellow sight. There were pictures of young Yangs and Rubys everywhere, overfilling the inch-thick binder with moments beside family, friends, and, most frequently, each other. The young girl smiled at this collection, then to Blake, and finally to the man. "Yeah. Me and my friend read that you're really good at making photo albums. Sorry about the mess, but…" Her sentence trailed off as she flipped through her binder's pages.

"No worries. I can definitely turn this into something." At this assurance, excitement positively glimmered in Ruby's eyes. "Just a few questions first, though."

"Sure."

"I take it you're going to want this in chronological order. Or would you like me to organize the pictures in some other way?"

"Um, chronological's fine."

"And would you like them to be two per page? Four? Six?"

"Anyway you want to do it. You're the expert."

"Okay. And what type of binding would you like? For how many pictures you have, I can offer a perfect binding, a case binding, or I can put the pages into a new three-ring binder—that is, if you want to keep them as close to how they are now."

"Uhh…" Ruby's eyes went wide—and, as the young girl turned, so did Blake's. "Any idea?"

This was surprising. There were different types of bindings? Of course. There had to be—books came in so many different sizes and styles. But which binding was which? Blake found herself just as stumped as Ruby, and the feeling was more than a little disappointing. For as long as she had loved literature, she had never once given thought to the printing process, and that was embarrassing. "I'm…" She was about to say that she was not sure, but the look on Ruby's face begged for help. There was no room for indecision now; Blake had to make a guess. "I think…case binding will be best."

"That's hardcover, by the way. Our most expensive option."

Blake frowned. Why not say that first?

"Well, that's fine," Ruby assured, audibly relieved. "I think…Are your hardcovers any good? Like, they're not gonna fall apart or anything, right?"

"They tend not to, no. But if one does, we offer replacement warranties to all of our customers. If the binding tears, if the glue falls apart, if the cover comes off, you can bring it back here and we'll get it rebound, free of charge."

"So, how much is 'expensive?'"

"It really depends on how many pages your book ends up with. All of our single-item case bindings require a down payment of two hundred Lien, adding to that the organization and composition costs—"

"Two hundred? Well, that's not too bad—"

"No, ma'am, that's just the down payment."

"Down payment?" Seemingly, Ruby was confused.

"Yes, ma'am. We require an up-front fee of two hundred Lien for hardcovers, and we'll call with a quote for the total cost after we organize your album."

"Quote?" Letting out a quiet groan, Ruby looked down. "I wish Weiss was here. She can speak this crazy language."

Blake imagined so. She had witnessed Weiss' business-speak magic only twice before, both instances having occurred during their summer break and the first of which being behind closed doors, but those two instances alone had proven something to the Faunus. Despite Weiss' cold and abrasive personality and the fury by which she often responded to minor matters, she was adept in the art of diplomacy. Unfortunately, she could not help from her position in Atlas, much to her teammates' chagrins.

Blake sighed. "All right," she accepted in Ruby's stead. She reached into her jacket and pulled out her team's card. "We'll make the deposit for a hardcover album. Do you have an estimate for when we can pick it up?"

"Usually, it takes about a week. But…" The older man looked at Ruby, seeing clearly the frown she tried to hide and the slight impatience far behind that. He smiled. "But, luckily, we're offering a holiday discount on rush-order photo albums. We can get it to you in three days for an additional seventy-five Lien."

For a moment, Blake considered what Weiss would have done—this was her money, after all. But as soon as she looked to Ruby in the same apologetic light as the clerk, Weiss' answer became glaringly obvious. "Of course." Blake handed the man her team's card. "Thank you."

An invisible weight lifted from Ruby's shoulders and, in an instant, her smile returned to its full, giddy form. From that thankful point on, the conversation turned to the pictures—to their moments and meanings, to the photographers and those photographed. The awkward Ruby of not two hours ago was gone now, a conversational mimicry replacing her to speak openly with this stranger clerk. Yang would be proud of her. For that matter, so would Weiss. And, admittedly, seeing Ruby so happy to speak of her childhood, her sister, and her once whole and happy family was heartwarming to the Faunus.

Ruby was the only one on their team who had had a childhood. Blake had forsaken her own in search of the White Fang, leading to distrust and disillusionment—to cynical adulthood. Yang, similarly, had given up her youth to be her sister's stand-in parent. And Weiss—the girl with no friends and no intention to make them—had never had one within the cold confines of Glatteis Manor. In this way, Ruby was an example of what her teammates could never have. But by humoring her, by collectively fostering that giddy smile and this conversational rarity, the three could live through their fourth. Seeing Ruby now, Blake could feel her parents beside her—the weekend walks into town for ice cream, the tuckered-out rides back on her father's shoulders, and the pleasant ease of never worrying about anything. She could see what Yang adored now, what Weiss had made an exception for.

Ruby was not purity or innocence, nor was she a vicarious childhood; she represented goodness, hope—a hope that Blake's long-lost aspirations of freedom and insouciance may one day be achieved. Ruby would talk and mature, but, in the meantime, Blake would see the honest naïveté behind her silver eyes. That was what she, Weiss, and Yang would protect.

The three talked for an hour. Even Blake, who felt somewhat uncomfortable in conversation, joined in to supplement her leader's missing vocabulary. For the first time in a great long while, Blake's knowledge of books came to her rescue, lending a means to translate what Ruby wanted for her sister's photo album into accomplishable requests. And, by the end of their refreshingly dry conversation, the deal was done. Yang's present would be ready for pickup in a few days, and Ruby was thrilled to see the fruits of her plans. She gave her binder a final wistful glance, shouldered her backpack, looked to Blake, and the two then departed.

The air outside was brittle and coarse again, winter winds having stirred to an evening gust. In just the same way a summer's heat could ambush the exiting two, this chill was immediately unsettling, drawing a shiver and gasp from the younger and a sharp inhale from the older. However, in spite of this sudden drop, the sight the duo exited upon more than made up for their discomfort. The world seemed to glow under a pear green light, a too-soon sunset just beyond the mall's short roofs reflecting and refracting through faraway rains. Under this light, the walls of the shops, the paths of darkened cobbled stone, and the shining silver eyes looking now at the Faunus all seemed somberly radiant.

"Hey, Blake?"

The girl in question smiled. "Don't worry. I won't tell Yang about—"

"Nah, it's not that. I know you won't. Just…" Blake watched as her leader crossed her arms and sighed, a cloud of steam rushing from her lips. "Just…thanks. You didn't have to take me out here, but you did, and I appreciate it. And if it wasn't for you, I'd, well…I still wouldn't know what to get Weiss."

"You're excited about it, aren't you?"

Ruby gave a short, almost rueful laugh. "Oh, yeah! No, it's…Well, if I can find it, I think Weiss is gonna like it. I don't think it's great or anything like that, but it's totally _her_. I mean, it's not, but—"

"You don't have to spoil anything, Ruby. To be honest, I'm looking to forward to whatever you have in mind, too. And if you ever need any further help—"

"Then I know who I can turn to." With a rattle of her plastic bag and another small laugh, Ruby turned to hug her teammate. "Thanks, Blake." In this novel green glow, the patrons of this center could only mind themselves, keeping their judging glances away from Blake's ears and their conversations focused on the spirit of the season. Noting this apathy—this natural cynicism—the Faunus chose to reciprocate, allowing Ruby her chance to be grateful and her own cold to lessen in kind. "I know Weiss and Yang are gonna like this stuff."

Blake said nothing in return. The two simply stood there, letting the moments pass them by as Ruby's urge to hug waned and eventually faded. The green light turned yellow, the wintry sun peeking from behind distant silver streaks. Vale did not warm any, nor would it for the rest of the night, but as this yellow turned magenta and as that magenta turned indigo, the biting winds almost felt pleasant. The lights of the city flickered on—ambers and golds, reds and greens illuminating the walks and stores along this strip mall—and the hug would reach its end and all the gratitude Ruby had to offer would be exhausted. However, they only realized this when a sudden noise growled from the younger girl's form.

She laughed. "Uh…Blake? I think we might have skipped lunch."

"Right…" drawled the Faunus. Certainly, Yang would be proud of her for taking Ruby out on this shopping trip and helping her decide what to get Weiss, but not feeding the young girl would doubtlessly bring criticism. But all was not yet lost. "How about we find something on the way back to Bumblebee?" she asked. "Something to tide you over until dinner?"

"Sure! But something quick. You still have that date to go on, right?"

"Right. But we still have time. There's no need to rush."

"Okay, so, coffee?"

"Lead the way."

With her hood pulled over her head and her cloak wrapped around the rest of her body, Ruby walked back the way she came. Blake joined her right after, hands tucked away in the warmth of her jacket, and the two wasted little time in finding a warm café with tolerable tea. All the while, Blake's mind wandered.

If Ruby was so happy about Weiss' gift, it stood to reason that Blake could feel similarly about her own gift for Yang. Indeed, she felt more confident about the book than she did last night, and she knew Yang would never let herself appear upset, but there was still so much to consider and revise. There was also a date tonight! The first in months! Blake's thoughts were both exhilarating and exhausting—worrisome and wonderful—yet by the time she and Ruby had stepped back out into the early night, all she could think of was Yang. Everything Ruby had been taken care of and anything Weiss could wait until tomorrow. Tonight would be for Yang.

By this excitement, the drive home proved much more tolerable than the drive into the city. The further Blake got from the lights and crowds and the closer she came to the suburbs and countryside, the more her mind waxed positive. Her heart hammered in her chest—she was nervous and enthused, prideful about the occasion yet, surprisingly, worried about how she would look. But Ruby clung to her as they braved the roads' wintry winds, lending an auric cheer that pushed Blake's nerves and worries back behind her goal of Yang's happiness. Ruby would be alone tonight, and this was regrettable after all she had done today in making her teammate feel welcome, but Blake would make sure to thank her and promise to go again soon. Tonight, however, would be for a birthday dinner, belated by a few weeks, but it was as much for Yang as this trip had been for Ruby.

All in all, today had been fun. And it looked only to improve with the promise of Yang.

* * *

The Bee and the Eagle was a stuffy affair. Resting sixty-seven stories above Vale's financial district was a modestly sized restaurant unlike any other Blake or Yang had dined in before. In a word, the place was stately—maroon satin paints and mahogany woodworks organized together beneath a dim lighting. The couple had been welcomed by name, had their coats taken without prompt, and were led smilingly to a table of Weiss' prior choice. Even the haughty atmosphere—evident through forced laughs and agreements from liquor-slurred lips at the other tables—was surprisingly tolerable, albeit tenuously so by the judging looks these patrons sent to a bow-wearing Blake and to each other. However, this was as close to high society as Blake had ever come—a far, far cry from not two years ago—and she was thusly content to debut on Yang's arm. As uncharacteristic as it was, the couple found this venue exciting.

They sat now before a vista, at a table and window overlooking Vale's nearby towers and far-below streetlights. The sight was dizzying, the mood detachedly light, the far yet near music light and friendly, and although occasional winds rattled the tinted glass panes, Blake felt warm here with her sleeveless, violet dress and grinning, white-clad company.

Yang simply watched her, elbows resting on the table and hands holding her glowing cheeks. The fire between them—the flickering candles above a bouquet of chrysanthemums—served to emphasize the dreamy admiration hitherto burning in her eyes. She had wanted this date more than anything. She had so wanted to spend time with her partner, and the happy sighs she made every couple minutes spoke volumes of her pride. For the first time in a while, she and Blake had found a moment of true privacy. No Ruby or Weiss or administrator interference could keep either from smiling at each other, so smile they did. And, in doing so, Blake found herself breaking character. There was no reason to be aloof, no purpose in hiding from the girl who knew almost everything about her. She could just be happy, appreciative of the restaurant and in love with the beautiful girl before her.

"You know," Yang said, voice only just above a whisper, clear yet quiet amid the evening's din, "one of us is gonna have to say something sometime."

The Faunus shrugged. "Perhaps. But I'm fine with staring for now."

"Yeah, me too." A warm sensation ran down Blake's spine at her partner's laughter. It was a quiet, composed, yet altogether Yang noise, and the fact that Blake had caused it was a fact to be proud of. "Buuut I kinda wanna hear how you and Ruby's date went."

Now it was Blake's turn to laugh. "It went fine," she explained. "We wandered around for a bit, picked up a few stocking-stuffers, and figured out what she's going to get Weiss."

"And that would be?"

"She didn't say. Though, judging by the way she reacted and spoke of 'finding it,' I believe she's had prior experience with whatever 'it' is."

Yang hummed. "Could be anything, then." She then smiled. "Thanks for going with her, by the way. I actually felt a _whole_ lot better with you being out there than I would have been with Weiss. It made the rest of my day so much easier."

"Speaking of," Blake smiled, "how _was_ your day?"

Yang was rarely one to talk about herself. In this regard, she was similar to Weiss. However, whereas the heiress avoided all personal history questions with brusque denial, Yang made a game out of it. Her eyes widened, hands falling from her cheeks to be clasped above her plate. She had a story to tell. "Well," she began, eager yet dramatically teasing, "it all started when I woke up next to the girl of my dreams. You would've loved her, Blake; she was so warm and soft and cuddly that I could barely get up. This morning was probably up there in my top ten. But! Then the _evil_ monster Ruby shook us awake. So, that was fun."

"And then you were ambushed by a midday pillow fight—from which you narrowly survived—"

"Hey, shush! I'm supposed to be telling this story!" Blake rolled her eyes. "And what do you know about literature, anyways? Leave the storytelling to the _masters_." The shared mirth between the two proved just enough to rouse suspicion. Although the couple was secluded at Weiss' behest, the closest table lent occasional glances which Yang doubtlessly saw. But her eyes remained locked on Blake's. "So, yeah. We did have that pillow _war_ —and thanks for spoiling that—but then we had to get up. I got some coffee, saw you guys out the door, had an existential crisis, went out for a run—"

A raised brow cut Yang off. "An existential—?"

Likewise, Yang waved this concern off. "It sounds more important than it actually was. Anyways, I went on that run to clear my mind and figure things out and ended up bringing lunch back from two different places—yeah, I got out pretty far. After that, I made the calls. The good news is that your presents are squared away."

"Wait. Presents? Plural?"

Seemingly wanting to avoid her girlfriend's disapproval, Yang tactfully shook her head. "Sorry. Misspoke. The good news is that your present— _no S_ —is squared away. The bad news is that it won't get here until after Christmas."

"Well, that's fine. Just so long as—"

"Single present, Blake. And it's not expensive. I actually got it for a really good deal, and I'm paying for it out of my own pocket, not Weiss'."

"I believe you," the Faunus assured. "And I'm grateful. So long as you're happy with your choice, I'll be happy, too. Seeing Ruby today and how excited she was to figure out Weiss' gift was incredible. It actually made me excited for Christmas, if you'll believe it."

"Oh, I do. She bought me a ticket for the Christmas hype train when I was eleven, and I haven't gotten off yet. Like, there's a lot of stuff Ruby's great at, but that girl _really_ knows how to get you amped for a holiday. Just wait until cookie season starts, though; girl's relentless when it comes to getting her gingerbread."

"I take it you bought the ingredients, then?"

"Yup!" The blonde seemed pleased with this fact, no noteworthy warmth radiating from her form, but she did lean into the table, glimmering amber pendant now dangling from her neck. "Took the Schnee boys out to do some leg work. You should've seen 'em—I thought they were gonna give up and go back to the limo! But, to Weiss' credit, her dad must pay those guys good because when I spent twenty minutes looking for bread—and purposefully passing the right one, by the way—they never said a word. And having three old suits following right behind me? That must have looked so funny."

"Sounds like you enjoyed yourself."

"Oh, yeah. They hated it!"

Normally, Yang was not the caustic or mean-spirited type. She was usually a happy soul, one who lived for bad jokes and making her friends smile. However, she also held a certain and unreasonable grudge against Weiss and her kin. The White Fang, to some extent, was legitimized in its hatred by the vivisective and claustrophobic horrors of Menagerie—whose construction and leasing had been indirectly sponsored by Weiss' grandfather—but their hatred was utter and complete. Yang and Weiss were friends, at least occasionally, and although their repartee humor was often insulting, they did not hate each other. But all this talk of "Schnee slaves" and regimented annoyance was strangely un-Yang.

Blake had meant to ask about this. After all, Yang's animosity for the Schnees and the other patrons in this space had been something of a subplot to their continued conversations. However, before Blake could turn the mood down a dour path, the couple's waiter arrived.

Like every other worker at this restaurant, the man was dressed in monochrome, inconspicuous by appearance and forgettably polite. He approached with no smile and no notepad—an unflappable professional, as he likely believed. Yang broke away from her date to smile at him, causing no visible reaction but being her usual, amiable self nevertheless.

"Welcome to The Bee and the Eagle," said the waiter evenly. Yang flashed an excited grin Blake's way—apparently, this was new to her. "Our courses tonight are the Arcolan dry-aged sirloin and, by special request, our pistachio-crusted yellowfin with sauce vierge. Being that Miss Schnee is your benefactor for tonight, our chefs send their kindest regards and are preparing your celebration's desert now."

Yang looked down at their table, snickering to herself as she mouthed, "Benefactor."

Blake, meanwhile, regarded the man with a dented smile. "Thank you, but we will not need any sort of celebration. I appreciate the offer, but we only intend to relax tonight."

"Of course, Miss Belladonna. However, your friend is a valued customer of The Bee and the Eagle, so you must forgive us for prioritizing Miss Schnee's deposit." To be entirely honest, this was disappointing. Blake did not lose her composure at the denial, but perhaps it had been her lowered gaze or Yang's subsequent frown that moved the man. He smiled in return. "Miss Belladonna, the celebration is no more than a free desert. We don't sing here."

From beneath the table, a white shoe brushed Blake's leg, and the Faunus found its golden owner nodding encouragingly. With a sigh, Blake turned back to the waiter, grace renewed. "Thank you. I just didn't want to cause a scene."

"A very common request," he assured, earning a thankful smirk from the blonde. "Now, have you two decided which courses you will each be having?"

The seated two looked at each other. Yang certainly seemed ready, or at least in a good, amused mood, and the question of her raised brow was answered by her partner's nod. In turn, Yang straightened her posture before looking up at the man with that dazzling smile which never failed in these social situations. "Yeah, we're ready. You ready?" The waiter nodded. "Cool. So, I'll have the steak—as rare as you can cook it. I mean, not raw, but—"

"As rare as we can _cook_."

"You got it," she winked. "And I'll have a water with that. Oh, and what's the most expensive red you have?" She looked to Blake, checking if tonight's celebration warranted a little alcohol. The half-amused, half-chiding smirk Blake sent back emphasized moderation, to which Yang grinned. "I mean, we _are_ dining on our mutual friend's buck."

"We have a house-favorite pinot noir, circa Armistice. The Bee and the Eagle was founded upon its owner's collection of that very wine after emigrating with it from Mistral."

"Well, while that _does_ sound special, I'm not really a pinot kind of gal. Got any…"

"Cabernet?"

"Cabernet! Exactly what I was thinking. I'll have that, too." The two now turned to the Faunus, the mood having lightened significantly since that moment of scene-making worry. "Blake, honey?" Yang asked, calling on her most out-of-character nicknames and thereby making her girlfriend's eye twitch. "Have you decided between the fish or the—"

"I'll have the fish," Blake told him. "Just a water with it, though. No wine."

"Certainly." He smiled again. "If there's nothing else, I will place your orders and have your food out as soon as I can." At this, he nodded, stepped back, and returned down the path from whence he came.

With the waiter gone, Blake was able to turn an amused smirk on her partner. "Cabernet? When did you become an expert on wine?"

"Actually," corrected Yang, "I'm called a wine _connoisseur_. Please, Blake. That's very insulting." The two simply watched each other, Blake's disbelieving eyes matching Yang's in a war of attritional jest. However, Blake did win out by way of her girlfriend's chuckle and shrug. "Fine, I'm kidding. I don't know anything about wine except that red goes well with steak."

"I wouldn't know."

"Of course you wouldn't. You'd rob trains and fight those dirty, rotten humans, but you'd _never_ take a drink." Perhaps at one point, this comment might have stung and been taken the wrong way, earning offense and exasperation, but Blake laughed lightly, shook her head, and looked out the window beside her. "Oh, right," Yang amended. "I forgot. It's not that you won't drink; it's that you can't. Or am I mistaken?"

"No, Yang," Blake sighed dryly. "You're right. If I drink, I become a party _animal_."

This allowed the blonde a particularly loud laugh. "God, I wish. Do you know how much I'd pay to see you dance on a table? To see you go up to someone and actually talk to them?"

"You'd pay to see me not be me?"

Yang's smile fell as her eyes widened. "Wait. I didn't mean—"

In turn, Blake smirked, and Yang suddenly understood with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh. Ha ha. Playing with my emotions. _Real funny_."

Ideally, this back-and-forth should not have needed any kind of appeasement. Yang had once been explicitly clear that teases in return never needed apologies; however, Blake had been equally clear that the friendliness of their teases should never be questionable. As such, she reached across the table, placing her hand palm-up beside the centerpiece, and, with another laugh, Yang took it.

"If it were anyone else…" she mused, sweeping her callused fingers over her girlfriend's own until they caught each other at the tips. "I'm glad you've got a better sense of humor than me. I love it when you get…" The look Yang sent was equal parts inspired and unsettling.

"Yang, don't you da—"

"Catty!"

Blake was caught then between a chuckle and a groan with no clear winner by their end. Yang, meanwhile, had put her head on their table with a scene-making _thump_ , snickering at her own joke—or, perhaps, Blake's expression—and thereby eliciting murmurs from a table not too far away. Nevertheless, her fingers curled around the Faunus', squeezing tighter with a tacit vow of harmlessness. And, in kind, Blake squeezed back, exasperated by Yang's joke but happy with her antics.

Out of the corner of her eye, however, Blake saw movement and reactively squeezed Yang's fingers again. The blonde slowly picked her head up in response. A thin, red line had been impressed upon her forehead in her moment of tabletop mirth, and her bangs had thusly been disturbed. But with a burst of regenerating warmth, a flip of her hair, and a wink, she composed herself easily and turned with Blake to greet the returning waiter.

He approached with a drink-laden cart and a familiar smile. Blake's cup came first—a mistily condensed glass atop a stem—before Yang's came second. She, however, received a second glass filled with an almost blood-red liquid. She smiled at it and its accompanying bottle before thanking the man cheerily.

"It's quite all right," he assured. "Miss Schnee has asked us to take care of you, and the restaurant's owner insists her will be done."

"Yeah, I bet," chuckled Yang. "Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question? How much did Weiss pay you guys to be so…not snooty?"

"Enough."

"Ah. Yeah, that explains it."

"Will there be anything else, Miss Xiao Long?"

Yang looked ready to say no, but something caught her eye as she looked Blake's way. "Actually," she began with the beginnings of a mischievous look, "do you have any idea when our food's gonna be done? You know, just to get an idea of how long we'll need to wait."

"I couldn't say. Usually, we have entrees delivered within twenty minutes, but our chefs are paying special attention to yours. Regrettably, your meals may take a little longer."

"Perfect!" For a moment, the man looked confused. Yang simply shook her head. "Sorry, I meant nothing by it. We're actually gonna be good for now. Thanks for asking, though."

He stood in place, uncertainly watching the blonde and her visibly glowing idea, before stepping away and returning to the kitchen with his cart. Yang watched him walk the entire distance. However, once he left her line of sight, a grin snapped Blake's way, and it was unfortunate that the Faunus knew this look. Yang's idea was a plan, and that plan meant that their simple, quiet dinner was about to become more.

Blake sighed. "What is it, Yang?"

At first, nothing verbal was given as a response. Yang simply stood, taking her wine with one hand and extending her other for Blake to hold. "Come on!" she said at last. "We're going exploring." The Faunus looked up at her, even in expression yet hesitant to accept. Her look of declination must have been obvious, for Yang insisted, "Blake, we've got _at least_ twenty minutes to burn, and I don't think this is the type of place to serve cheese sticks and bread. Besides, I want to see where that music's coming from."

The table had been set perfectly, porcelain and silver shimmering beneath three candles' light, and all the effort both Weiss and the restaurant had put into arranging this otherwise simple date was difficult to ignore. In a way, it felt wrong to leave the table behind, even if Blake knew she would return. She was no rule-breaker, despite those regretted ten years, but now her partner—that girl who could always get her into trouble—wanted to explore when etiquette demanded confinement and stillness. The conflict was simple—petty, really—but Blake found herself unsure. Worse yet, she now wanted to take the hand and rise, to explore the unexplored with her best friend, and to break those rules regardless. And, with a sigh, she did.

Yang pulled Blake up, meeting the Faunus' frown with a peck to her forehead. "I promise we'll be back soon. I just want to check this place out."

The hand Blake held was warm and squeezed her own tightly. She did frown due to broken etiquette—an awkwardness she, by all rights, did not need to feel—but Yang would guide her through the restaurant, through the crowd and their judging looks, and this was reason enough to breathe easy and nod. With a tug of her fingers, Yang pulled Blake along, sipping at her wine as they left their table behind.

The Bee and the Eagle was a largely modest place. Although the beautiful dresses and suits at each and every one of the other tables overshadowed the couple's school-appropriate frocks, the feeling of elitism and paradoxical acceptance into this crowd felt odd to the Faunus. She, of course, wore her bow so to not cause a scene, but the fact that no one glanced at her in any way but curiously or, as was a surprise to her, admiringly was amazing. Was this what Weiss felt like? Was this what her own mother had felt like so long ago? Slowly, Blake's uncertain frown fell away. Despite her dress not being as showy as the other women's and despite her newness to this society, she felt unafraid. She smiled up at Yang, thanking her silently, and was rewarded in just the same way. Suddenly, this adventure seemed natural.

The source of the music, as they would come to find, was a string quartet playing in a back corner, beside an unoccupied bar and yet another window which showed the glowing cityscape beyond. In spite of the couple's initial encounter with the restaurant's patrons—and as well their Weiss-given preconceptions—those in the semicircle of tables around the band seemed pleasant enough. At the very least, they did not mind Blake and Yang standing in their aisle, the latter's arm coming to rest over the former's shoulders. The band played a light chamber composition Blake was sure she had heard before and did so with the most inconspicuous ease, being quiet enough to not draw attention but jaunty enough for Yang's fingers to tap against her partner's shoulder.

But the blonde would soon grow tired of the music—after all, classical had never been this wine connoisseur's favorite. The sips from her cup became more frequent and her gaze gradually shifted from the violins and cellos to the lonely bartender, and Blake noticed this.

With a nudge of her elbow, she caught Yang's attention. "Come on," she whispered. "There's still more to explore."

Yang raised a brow to her. "You sure? Don't you want to wait till the song's done?"

"Do you?"

"Good point." A thumb swept across Blake's shoulder, and the two turned. "But it's nice, you know? I've never eaten anywhere where they play music—well, not like this. It's fancy." Beneath her partner's arm, Blake shrugged in reply, conveying acknowledgment as she scanned for the next place to explore. They walked back down the path they had come from, but rather than returning to their table, Blake stopped at the foot of a path leading outside. To this, Yang grinned. "Oh, Blake. Oh, _Blake_. What a marvelous idea!"

Yang giggled at the trouble she only wished she was getting into. She was hurrying Blake along, caring more about that outbound path than how others looked at her, but Blake remained as alert as ever. There were still people watching her, people judging her even though they could not know she was a Faunus. But the moment now called for haste between Yang's excitement and those unabating gazes—the moment called for nothing less than exploration, progress, and, most difficult of all, Yang's ability to let go. Therefore, Blake held to her glowing, golden partner, approached a glass door, and escaped into a winter night.

The two arrived upon a rooftop terrace—a largely empty space with warmer-weather tables and chairs pushed aside for the new year. As they exited, however, Blake was surprised by an immediate chill, a frigid gust that jarringly reminded her of the season. Fortunately, Yang's presence lessened the blow amazingly. Not even the weather could deter her from making her girlfriend's day bright and warm, and this wonder was made ever clearer by the heightened glow of both the terrace's lights and the amethyst orbs beaming right at the Faunus.

The girl in violet smiled back at her partner. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"Glad you noticed!"

Warm lips graced Blake's cheek, kissing softly at first but soon pressing hard enough to make her laughingly wince. When Yang pulled away, however, she pulled away completely. Her arm disengaged from her girlfriend's shoulder, her legs carried her forward, and she left behind a scent of grapes. But no matter how heady the alcohol smelled or how long the two had been dating as best friends and partners, Blake could not help but hold a hand to that spot, shaking her head and savoring the moment as it fluttered away.

With a glassy clink, Yang set her drink down on the concrete ledge, looking out and over at the street below and then back up to the checkered, glowing towers before her. The wind whipped past her as she leaned over the side of the building, yet she did not seem to mind. In truth, she seemed to adore the wind and the way it tousled her hair and made her dress flutter behind her. More likely, Blake thought, Yang probably enjoyed the resulting and awestruck stare she was being given. But, either way, she seemed happy, and that was what mattered. "You know, except for airships and Beacon's cliff and stuff, I don't think I've stood anywhere this high before. It's kind of amazing."

Blake shook her head, bringing herself back down to reality. Yang was not a hope or goal anymore; she was a reality in Blake's present, and all this leaning and fluttering was as much an invitation as it was impossible. These two were the only occupants of this bright and windy terrace, set away from the muffled music indoors and given the privacy Beacon had rarely allowed. Blake relaxed. Regardless of tonight's celebration, she had a chance to be alone with Yang, and it was clear that Yang wanted to be alone with her, too.

The Faunus' approaching steps had never felt more natural. "Yeah," she agreed, taking a spot beside her partner and leaning out just the same. "It's something else, isn't it?"

Sixty-seven stories below, little ants of red and white crisscrossed and passed one another, a ballet of lights accompanied by horns and distant sirens. Yang glanced over at her partner. Her gaze lingered a moment longer than Blake had anticipated, smile falling away to some important yet never-to-be-admitted consideration before returning again. She sighed a happy sigh before turning around and seating herself atop the ledge.

She said nothing, simply staring down at the girl who stared right back at her.

"Yang, get down from there. You're going to fall."

"Nah. I've already fallen," she winked, causing Blake's eyes to roll. "Besides, it's cute the way you worry about me—thinking like I'm _actually_ gonna fall or something." The remaining half of her wine was then finished, knocked back in this moment joyful privacy. She sat there for a moment, eyes closed as she savored something—perhaps her drink or the moment—before sending a soft look her partner's way. "Blake, you know I'd never leave you. You and Ruby are the most important people in my life, and I could never leave you guys behind. I'm not going to do anything stupid; I'm not going to fall. I'm just…" She leaned back a bit, her golden mane dangling off the sheer drop behind her. "I'm just in a good mood."

"Well, that good mood is going to get you hurt. Worse, I'd have to wait a whole five minutes for you to get back up here if you keep leaning like that."

For once, Yang was on the receiving end of a tender mood turned light. Blake was certainly worried about her falling, veritable invincibility or not, but not to such a degree that she would truly condemn Yang's actions—she was joking, and both knew this. However, there had been a look of disappointment which flashed across Yang's features, and this too was noticed.

Blake moved her hand over her partner's, returning the soft look. "For what it's worth, I'm in a good mood, too. Taking Ruby out to run errands was fun, but it wasn't running errands with you. I would have gone grocery shopping with you had you asked."

"Yeah, but I'm glad you went with Ruby. I really think she needed that with Weiss not being here and all. Plus, you guys got the princess' gifts out of the way. So, that's good." She then looked down again, another admission hidden behind doubts. However, her downcast mood did not last long. A squeeze from her girlfriend's hand and a smirk of her own reignited the fire which had momentarily been lost from her eyes. "Also," she sighed, "I missed you. Like, a lot. Like, when me and Weiss' assistants were picking up groceries, I couldn't stop wondering if you and Ruby were okay, if you'd like the things I picked out, if I was wrong to not go with you."

"Yang, you don't have to worry. You made the right decision."

"I know, kitten, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing—I love thinking about you; it's the best part of my day—but it really did make time move a lot slower." Whether this was a comment or a compliment, Blake blushed all the same. "I couldn't wait to get back to you, and now we're here."

"And? Do you feel any better? Is time moving as it should?"

Yang closed her eyes again, this time basking in the moment. She chuckled to herself. "Well, time isn't slow anymore, I can tell you that much. Now it's moving too fast for my taste." She opened her eyes, looking down at her partner. "But yes. I am feeling better. I've had my fix of Blake for the day, and now I have her all to myself."

She then hopped down from her ledge and, in a much-anticipated Yang fashion, took the affectionate initiative. She circled around the girl in violet, keeping hold of the Faunus' hand, until her chest pressed against Blake's back. All at once, the summery breeze faded, the pleasant warmth of Yang's aura flared, and a hot sigh washed down Blake's neck, causing her to shiver. She felt safe—that was the word which echoed now in her mind. Wrapped in Yang's arms and free from the cold, she felt safe and secure, as though no goal or motive spurred her forward and no shadows threatened to undermine everything she had accomplished. This was home—this was where she had wanted to be all day, and now she could rest.

"Sway with me," Yang whispered. Her hands moved lower, crossing Blake's hips and pulling the Faunus back into a hug. "No dancing. No standing. Just sway."

And so they did. Wordlessly, Blake let herself sway to the distant sounds of traffic, wind, and a string quartet behind glass. She felt Yang press against her back, gentle breaths dancing along her neckline as the winter night was scared away by her blanket of warm aura. The Faunus smiled, closing her eyes on the glowing city before her to instead revel in Yang's presence. They rocked together, standing in place as Blake pulled Yang left and Yang led Blake right.

They did not care about the cold, about the restaurant. They did not care about the responsibilities awaiting them now or in the future. Simply, they cared for each other—Blake cared for the girl who had welcomed and loved her no matter who she had been and what she had done—and thus forgot about that essay and that lonely sister waiting at home and those pesky etiquette rules which would eventually call them back to their table. Instead, they swayed and swayed, and the silence was magical.

Yang's breaths halted, but before Blake could worry, lips pressed against her neck—short, light, offhand kisses that came with every lean. "I'm so proud of you, Blake," she hummed. "I'm so proud to be yours."

"Yang, you're not—"

A shushing noise interrupted her. "Yeah, I am. I'm yours, and I'm proud." The kisses stopped, Yang smiling for a moment before resting her head against Blake's shoulder. "You make me feel like I don't have to worry about anything. That you're always going to be there. That I don't have to run. God, Blake, it hurt when you and Sun were together. I wasn't jealous, but…"

"Sun and I weren't together."

"I know that. But I didn't back then. You _could have_ been together—I mean, a muscly, funny, ab-y Faunus from that country whose language you like to study? He was perfect for you."

At this, Blake stopped swaying. Her eyes opened slowly, regretfully, and she turned in her partner's grasp, facing the now wistful blonde. "Yang," she tried softly, earning a distant look, "we _weren't_ together. He never liked me like that." The distant look focused, brows scrunching in disbelief. Blake shook her head. "I mean, he might have, but that's beside the point. I liked you. I mean, I never liked you like…this," she stepped back, trailing her hands down Yang's arms until only their fingers were entwined, "until after I knew you—actually realized the type of person you were. But I do now. So, you don't have to worry about—"

A strange laugh interrupted Blake. It was not solemn or morose, pained or dismissive; Yang was happy, joking. "I know, Blake. And I'm not saying that I am. I'm just saying that I'm proud to be your girlfriend. I don't have to worry about missing out on something awesome anymore." She smiled, warmly and without remorse. "And you _are_ awesome. You make everything feel like it's okay, like Ruby dating Weiss actually makes sense or reading can actually be fun. I don't know if you're, like, my 'rock,' or if that's a cliché or something…"

"I'm yours," Blake answered, ignoring the darker connotations to bask in the light. "And I mean that. No Sun, no new crushes; I have everything I could have wanted with you."

Yang watched her partner for a moment, appraising her amber eyes and waiting for them to suddenly move or twitch and thereby undercut Blake's convictions. But these convictions were strong. With Yang, there was no need to worry about sociality, no fears of future betrayal. Blake could be quiet in her natural solitude, but, with Yang, she also had a means of being friendly and open—normal, as she had so dreamed about not two years ago. The Faunus' fascination with Yang may have bloomed later than Yang's fascination with her, but the fascination existed nevertheless, and it was not going away anytime soon.

Yang smiled.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted." Happily, the blonde slipped out of Blake's hands, only to pull her back into a hug. "Thanks, Blake," she whispered, curious fingers now distracted from the bow beside them. Regardless of if she had been jealous or afraid, all she wanted now was this hug. And Blake was eager to oblige. "You're the best. Happy birthday."

They began to sway again, Blake's head resting on Yang's shoulder and Yang's head atop Blake's. The wind was picking up, crashing through the light barrier of Yang's aura and crawling across Blake's skin. But this was fine; it was all the more reason to move closer. Whatever the other patrons thought hardly mattered—of course, they could not see, but Blake did not care! Yang was her constant now—her foil, her partner—and that she was here to stay and be incorruptible in her morality was a long-awaited relief. So, she swayed, an impromptu dance to ward off the cold.

"We should just run away."

"Hm?"

Yang's hands lowered to the small of her partner's back. With Blake's arms wrapped around her neck, Yang began to widen their movements to an incidental slow dance. "You and me, kitten," she whispered, both speaking and not speaking to the Faunus. "Let's go somewhere. Let's elope. I mean, not like that, but, you know…leave Ruby a number to call, put the fear of God into Weiss, and just run away."

"What about school?"

"What _about_ school? We could get our hunter licenses in Mistral or something. Or do freelance work."

Blake let this offer trail off. Both knew it was unrealistic, and even though it was plain to see that they both wanted to run away with each other, they could not. Ruby would never let her sister leave. Weiss would doubtlessly track Blake down. They four had obligations to Vale with their enrollments at Beacon, and running now would only beget more running. Fortunately, they would find a substitution in dancing, simply holding to each other and sighing every so often. They would just take things slow, Blake assured herself. They would not rush. They already had each other, and neither was going anywhere.

After a moment, Yang laughed—dryly, almost self-deprecatingly if Blake knew her well enough. As such, this caused the Faunus to pull her head back, look at her partner, and ask, "What? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing." Yang shook her head. "Just…Man, I suck at patience. But I know two people who'd kill me if I didn't wait, so I think I'm gonna wait."

"Yang, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Buying us a mistletoe, of course. That way, I can kiss you all I want!"

"Yang."

"I'm serious! I've always wanted to get a—"

" _Yang_."

Despite her apparent mirth, the look Yang gave Blake was entirely serious. She did smile and seemed to be in her regular joking mood, but her eyes made silent pleas for help—calls for trust. "Oh, come on, Blake. A girl's gotta keep _some_ secrets, right?" She leaned forward and pecked her partner's nose, causing Blake to flinch but not distracting her for a moment. "Besides, I know you'll figure it out eventually. Now, come on. Time's up, and I've gotta get a refill."

She tried to pull away and retrieve her glass, but Blake caught her immediately. Their swaying had stopped, the music had quieted, and now the only sound on the wind was the wind itself. The two looked at each other, carefully and without mirth.

"Yang, whatever's going on, I want you to know that it _will_ be all right." The girl in white stopped moving, listening intently to her girlfriend's assurances. "You can keep your secret—you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to—but if it's going to be another issue, another…schism, I want to fix it. You've been carrying something around with you all day, and I don't know what it is. I won't guess, Yang, but you deserve to know that whatever you've been worrying about is affecting your judgments. You seem distracted tonight."

Yang looked down, sighing. However, Blake caught her again, this time with nothing more than a smile and much-needed eye contact. "But that doesn't matter now," she said. "Right now we're on a date—on a date we've been waiting months for. I'm getting to spend time with you, we're waiting on a nice dinner, and there's nothing else out there that should take this away from us." The blonde seemed confused by this initially, but she was quickly soothed. "This is our time, Yang; we don't have to worry about Christmas or self-worth right now. We just have to worry about us." Blake smirked. "And, perhaps, getting back before our food arrives."

A healthy flush rose to Yang's cheeks—not a blush, per se, but thankful liveliness. However, when she tried to say something, words would not come out. "I—"

She was interrupted by a returned peck to her nose. "I love you," Blake promised, no joke to her tone. "Whatever's on your mind, I know you will figure it out. But not tonight. Tonight, just focus on our date. Let's have fun."

The quartet began to play again, a Christmas tune whining through the glass. The wind hushed, the lights shone brighter, and that auric warmth which had been tonight's blanket reemerged. Yang was smiling now, albeit with that extra bit of baggage weighing her down, but she did not seem to mind. "Yeah," she agreed. "All right. Fun—that's what we'll have. Not a second existential crisis, because that's kinda _not_ fun." Her eyes focused on Blake for a moment, burning lilac meeting patient amber, before the former brought the latter into a tight, rib-crushing, completely Yang hug. "I love you, too, Blake. I promise I'll tell you one day."

"I look forward to it," whispered Blake as she squeezed back.

The night, from that point on, continued incredibly. Yang returned to her natural, ebullient, and altogether joyful warmth, and Blake made sure to foster the mood, playing into her partner's jokes and not batting an eye at Yang's interest in her wine. The Bee and the Eagle turned out to be a success—one Blake knew she would have to thank Weiss for. Yang raved about her steak until they returned home while Blake proved surprisingly vocal about "the best tuna she had ever eaten." And, to close the meal out, the two shared a simple slice of chocolate cake—free of charge by the restaurant owner's insistence—which unbecomingly, unabashedly, and gigglingly broke Blake's rule of not making a scene. Neither girl minded, however.

Yet the trouble on Yang's mind—that shadow of a doubt—lingered the entire night. Glimpses of it were caught between wine glasses, lulls in the conversation, and occasional glances when Blake spoke. All this prospective talk of running, and Yang' was doing the same from something now. She was thinking, fearing a plan. But her fear seemed tentative and almost contingent, as though she understood that her fear was unfounded, but she yet worried over its potential founding. She was and was not afraid, and Blake had meant to say something to help. But she, too, worried—about her essay, about the gifts she would give, about Ruby. Despite their fears, however, the couple found distraction in each other. They found solace, a home, and managed to make an initially uncertain night everything they dreamed it would be.

* * *

A low, muffled whine was the only sound in the cabin—only one passenger occupied this section of the airship, and even those who attended her were nowhere to be seen. Only the lonely night's cold and the engine's whine existed, the ocean and clouds below shrouded by the night.

But Weiss had been in worse situations before. And, frankly, this solitude was not entirely abhorrent. As long as she could avoid everything Schnee related for five minutes—five good, self-assuring minutes—she would be fine. She needed a moment to herself, to collect herself—to collect herself not as Weiss Schnee but simply as Weiss—and now her family's distance would be their demise. Or so she hoped. In truth, her visit home had reinforced certain Vale-inspired understandings of where she had come from and who she could be. To some extent, Weiss could now empathize with Yang's hostility towards her and her family. After all, this trip home had ended in a wildly unexpected decision, leaving Weiss dumbfounded and sincerely wishing she had been pulled from Beacon Academy.

Well, at least Ruby would be happy. That had to account for something.

Three envelopes sat on a table beside the heiress, monogrammed with each of her friends' names but not by her decision. She had the option to not deliver them, to not convey her father's message, and such a choice would doubtlessly grant her the expulsion her team deserved. But she would deliver them. She did not hate her father, her sister, or her name. In fact, those were perhaps the most defining features of her person, and a Schnee was bound by loyalty. She did not like her father, and her sister was…difficult, but she did not hate them. They were family, more so than Team RWBY was. As such, she would swallow her altruism and be the bearer of bad news when she returned to Vale.

For now, though, all Weiss could do was wait. She would not arrive for at least ten hours, and, even then, she was in no rush. Her team, save Blake, would more than likely be asleep in the late morning, and her growing headache, which she knew would be a problem come tomorrow, did not make dealing with a tired Yang or Ruby seem appealing. Either way, those two—as rambunctious and missed as they were—were too far away to be a problem. Weiss' current problem was waiting—the growing headache which clawed at her skull, the uninspiring wisps of black clouds, and the haunting lack of conversation. Surprisingly, this lack of conversation was the worst aspect of all, what with no book or music or sleep to pass the time.

Weiss did not consider herself outgoing. Certainly, she was not as quiet as Blake or as… altogether socially inept as Ruby, but she was not blind, either. Conversationally, she was a robot, a product of premature academic work and her father's high-minded society. She could speak well and felt no fear in doing so, but whenever she did speak, her words seemed stilted, inhuman. She could be as sociable as Yang or as networked as her father, yet no one would truly want to speak with her. That is, no one outside of her team.

Thankfully, Ruby had looked past her partner's awkwardness, but her opinion hardly mattered to the task Weiss carried. These envelopes were a curse—a deserved curse to be sure, but a curse nonetheless. They would ruin Ruby's Christmas. They would tear Blake and Yang apart. And, worse yet, Weiss was willing to deliver them—to deliver her team a slow and painful death.

They would never forgive her.

Suddenly, a noise beneath the aircraft's whine caught her attention. Weiss instinctually grabbed her sword. Perhaps she was on edge, perhaps she was needlessly furious, but that sound came as a threat to her peace, and she had full intentions to kill. But those intentions quickly subsided, her fury quieted, and her grip relinquished as she found one of her black-clad assistants standing at the bulkhead entryway, folded blanket in hand.

Weiss sighed and waved him in. Truthfully, she felt no regret for considering an attack. She knew it would be wrong, but…No. Killing humans was wrong, no matter the reason. She was a huntress, not a murderer, and even if her father's goons would kill her in her sleep given the right payment, they were human. And they were company. Well, they could be company if Weiss squinted hard enough, but at least he came with a blanket. No, she did regret grabbing her sword. He had done nothing wrong.

"Lady Schnee," the man began, quietly so not to disturb her, "the pilot expects troubling winds ahead, perhaps an hour out." Without a word, he offered the blanket.

Even in slacks and a blouse—an unfortunate combination forced by meetings scheduled just minutes before her departure—Weiss carried with her Atlas' cold, and although she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in that blanket and fall quickly asleep, she reached out tentatively. The assistant's expression was as neutral as always, and it was doubtful he knew his charge's startled intentions, but Weiss felt apologetic nevertheless.

They nodded to each other, and the man turned.

However, a thought tugged at Weiss' mind, telling her not to let him go yet. Something needed to change—she needed some sort of relative positivity before the clock struck midnight. He had delivered a blanket, given a useful piece of information, and although he was one of her father's spies, he was the closest thing on this airship Weiss had to a friend.

"Wait," she asked—not a command but a request. He turned back to her, apparently unmoved by this change in demeanor. "I don't know your name."

"Lady Schnee, it hardly m—"

"But I would like to know it."

He paused, stared at her, and glanced back at the bulkhead, almost wary of being found out. But as soon as he realized what he had meant to realize, he turned back to Weiss and said evenly, "My name is Reginald. My family name is Hogarth."

"Reginald," she began but immediately trailed off. Why was she asking this? Was it to gratify her lessening self-worth—to legitimize today's angst? Or was she curious, simply looking for normalcy? Both, she decided drolly. She began again, "Reginald, if I were to ask you a difficult question, would you give me an honest answer?"

"It depends, Lady Schnee. You know this."

"Reginald, I give you my word that nothing will happen should you answer in any way that might upset me. If I ask you a question, then, would you speak your mind?"

He said nothing but nodded.

Weiss sat back in her seat, keeping the blanket folded in her lap as she stared him in the eye—uncertainly, but she would not dare to let that show. "Reginald," she asked, voice quieter than she intended, "do you think I'm a bad person?"

Surprisingly, he did not seem shocked. Of course, these assistants and valets never were, but Weiss expected some sort of reaction—hesitance, unease, something! Instead, he watched her with cool composure. "You are," he said, searching for the right word, "unfit."

Weiss nearly laughed. They had learned well from her father, knowing all the right buttons to press. _Unfit_. It was disappointingly objective, as though there were some legitimate basis to critique Weiss' character. He could have said yes. He could have said she was cruel or bossy or spoiled. He could have said anything else with all that education her family had given him, yet he chose "unfit." But Weiss did not laugh, nor did she get upset. She had given her word, and thusly frowned. "I see."

"That is, comparatively," he amended, as though this could somehow soften the blow.

"I understand," assured Weiss. "At least…" She shook her head. "No, I understand." The man simply stood there, arms clasped behind his back, awaiting an allowed departure. She was indeed a bad person—a narcissist, a tyrant, a…control freak—but that did not mean she was incapable of learning. Vale had proven that. Ruby had proven that.

With a solemn nod, Weiss allowed the man his leave as she looked down at the blanket he had given her. She closed her eyes, focused on the fuzzy warmth of the fabric, and forced herself to be a better person—to be human, to show a softer expression. "Thank you," she said, calling to Ruby's charm and stunning her valet in the process. "I…appreciate your honesty."

He took a moment, but at last he said, "Certainly."

At this, Reginald walked away. His expression was confused and his gait was thrown off, but he moved with the same haste everyone else had when moving away from the young Schnee. She would never see him again. Honesty was no crime in his service, but there was a tendency for the honest to be placed away from the curious—though, perhaps he would appreciate this distance. He was no friend, nor were any of the other valets and assistants, but he had been kind enough in his standoffish way. For that, Weiss was grateful, albeit wounded.

She then found herself alone again. The only company she had left was the envelopes, the blanket, the low, incessant engine whine, and her resulting headache. Of course, there was always her scroll, placed upside down and away on the table, but she did not feel like working tonight. E-mails and diligence could wait until tomorrow. Really, most everything could wait until tomorrow. She was cold and tired and just wanted to be in Vale, but the blanket would remain folded in her lap, untouched except by her fingers. This inaction could, perhaps, be an instinctual punishment—poetically, a cold personality deserved frostbite—or perhaps the assistant's comment truly had gotten to her.

No, it was the latter. Poetic justice was an exclusively Ruby rationale, Weiss believed.

A sigh escaped her lips. Bad person or not, she was more than her emotions and knew better than to sit unprotected in the cold. The blanket was thus unfurled and draped over her. In true irritated form, however, Weiss could not relax by this comfort, choosing instead to maintain a proper sitting posture beneath this surprisingly insular cloth. She was warm now, her ignored shivers having subsided, and while she was indeed grateful for this warmth, warmth was just not enough. She still felt awful. She was a Schnee—heiress to Remnant's greatest fortune—and meant to have the advantages of that position. But those letters were still there and she was still here and Ruby was still in Vale and the shivers still came back.

Risking the cold, she reached out from her blanket, past the envelopes, and for her scroll. A little positive reinforcement never hurt, she thought. With one press of her thumb, the device slid open, and, with another, the screen recognized her thumbprint, welcoming her with a bright white light. She winced, momentarily blinded. However, after a few moments of adjustment, she was able to navigate to her messages. None were unread, none were new.

She scrolled past her conversations with Blake and Yang, knowing that the few words she had shared with them would only prove her argument of coldness and inhumanity, but stopped at Ruby's name and opened her conversation without hesitating. Immediately, she was met with their last few messages—insistent goodnights that went on a bit too long—and smiled.

Reading backwards through their conversation evoked a strangely paradoxical feeling. On one hand, Weiss came close to laughing a couple times at Ruby's assumptions of Atlas as a winter wonderland. On the other hand, however, questions of "How are you doing?" and "Did something happen?" were, every time, brushed off and answered dishonestly. As much as Weiss did enjoy texting Ruby—the girl was, after all, an unending source of genuine positivity—she could not come to terms with their predicament. They were dating, she was happy to read what Ruby wrote, and she could not wait to see her again. And all of that was still strange.

But she would do better. No more fury, no more pushing Ruby away. She would, of course, deliver the letters and withhold information to keep her partner safe, but she would do better. She had given her word.

Weiss tried to settle into her seat, reading the text conversation again, but found her mind still in shambles. Her eyes wandered up to Ruby's name and to the arrow beside it. She could call. They were girlfriends, after all, and friends. She had a signal to do so, the hour was not too late, and she knew Ruby would appreciate it. But…

But nothing. No excuses. She would definitely call.

She pressed the arrow beside Ruby's name and was met with her information. Another shiver ran up the heiress' spine. She was afraid. She should not have been and hated the fact that she was, but looking at Ruby's phone number and the call icon beside it proved intimidating, as though they hid a terrible answer to a question Weiss had yet to ask. But she gritted her teeth and pressed that icon. The screen dimmed, a picture of that bright and sterling-eyed girl appeared, and Weiss hesitantly brought that picture up to her ear.

The phone rang and rang and rang until at last it stopped. But Ruby did not answer; instead, a robotic voicemail greeting met the heiress before she snapped her scroll shut.

"Of course," she groused. "Of course she didn't pick up. The one time I needed your help, Ruby, you don't—" But then her scroll began to vibrate. All at once, Weiss' fury fell away for shock. Ruby had called back. That wonderful dolt.

The heiress wasted little time in answering; however, she made sure to compose herself first, releasing her current shock and rethinking her reprimanding openers. She sat up, cleared her throat, tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear, and received the call. "Hello?"

"Weiss?" What a relief it was to hear that voice. Despite the panicked tone, the voice was indeed Ruby's—hurried, casual, awkward, and caring—and this, unwittingly, allowed Weiss' first smile of the day. Nevertheless, Ruby sounded scared. "Weiss? What's wrong? Did you land yet? Do you need someone to come pick you—?"

"No, Ruby," the heiress calmly interrupted. "I'm fine."

A very loud, very relieved sigh rattled the connection. "Oh," breathed Ruby. "Well, that's good. I was just watching a movie, so I didn't hear your call until the last ring. Sorry about not picking up." Straight to apologies as always. Weiss did not doubt the girl's honesty—Ruby would have been far tenser had she been up to something—but it was surprising how, after an entire day of distrust and self-reliance, a single apology had disarmed the heiress. Well done, Ruby. "Wait," the young girl then said. "If everything's all right, then why are you calling me?"

"No reason."

"No reason? Weiss, what's going on? You always have a reason."

It was sweet of her to think so. It was untrue and idealistic but sweet nonetheless. "I just wanted to call. I needed to hear how you were doing."

"Well, I'm doing pretty go—well! I'm doing pretty well. Yang and Blake went out on their date a couple hours ago, so they should be coming back soon. Oh! And Yang got me pizza. So, that was cool of her."

"Pizza? Ruby, they left for The Bee and the Eagle, and all you got was pizza?"

"Yeah? I mean, that's not really a problem. It's pizza, Weiss!"

Weiss caught herself. She had intended to refute Ruby's claim of adequacy, but that would have been an argument, and she did not feel like arguing tonight. Especially not over pizza. "I suppose it is," she acquiesced. "There have been worse dinners to have with even worse company. Speaking of which, how is your movie?"

"It's paused now, but I just got to the part where the reindeers play basketball. It's funny because they don't even have arms!" Ruby giggled to herself. "But yeah. Just Christmas movies and pizza and hot chocolate all night—well, at least till Yang and Blake get back. They'll probably wanna go to sleep like they always do, but maybe I can convince them to watch another movie with me. Maybe _Slay Bell_. I know Blake'd be up for it—she and I actually went out shopping today. I got Yang's present."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"A photo album. It's gonna be filled with all sorts of pictures from when we were kids to when we were at Beacon. And I hope it's all right if you're in there a few times. I kinda wanted to get some pictures of us as a team."

"As long as they are not pictures _of_ me. If they are pictures _including_ me, then you have my permission." Ruby hummed an affirming noise in response. "Also, well, on a slightly different note, where was Yang during all this? I take it you distracted her."

"Yeah, um…She stayed back. She had some Blake stuff to figure out and needed to get some groceries and, well, I guess she didn't want to go shopping for you."

"Which means you went shopping for me."

"Mm-hmm! I actually found your present today. All I need to do now is figure out how to wrap it—and, well, get a tree to put it under, which you and me still have to find, by the way."

Weiss frowned. Suddenly, the conversation seemed unappealing again. Why bother delivering the letters—why not tell her now and get it all over with? No, and ruin her Christmas? That was a real monster's work. But, of course, leading the young girl on was just as rude and would only hurt her more at the moment of deliverance.

Ultimately, Weiss chose to stay silent. Whatever she might have said would be wrong; there was no greater choice here than to lie and let Ruby believe what she would. The heiress simply wrapped herself in her blanket, trying to escape.

"But enough about me, Weiss! You're the one who won against the _evil_ Otto Schnee!"

The girl in white blinked, shivering. "Yes, Ruby, I…won."

"Well, go on! Why don't you tell me about it?"

"I…" She could not. There was no victory. There was no silver lining. There had not even been a moment to react before a decision had been reached and these letters given. This was a difficult question to answer and one Weiss wanted to avoid. "I will tell you when I return. I promise."

"Okay." Something about Ruby's tone—some quaver or pause—told that she knew. She knew something was amiss, but, thankfully, she knew better than to ask over the phone. "But what about today? You said you had meetings or something, right? How'd those go?"

She was persistent, but Weiss could not fault her for that. She had grown up with a bullheaded sister and chose to date an equally bullheaded princess. In truth, Weiss was glad she had been asked this. It changed the subject, moved them away from the inevitable. "My meetings went well," she said on instinct but immediately winced. She had lied again. "I mean, they could have gone better."

"Something bad happen?"

"Yes and no. Nothing irrecoverable, but I haven't spoken business in a while."

"So, you were a bit rusty, huh?"

Weiss smirked wryly. "Rusty doesn't begin to cover a thirty million Lien loss."

"Oh."

"My exact reaction."

Strangely, this self-reflection did not hurt nearly as much as her thoughts of the letters. Weiss was able to pull her legs up into her seat, kick off her heels, and just hold to herself with Ruby at her ear. She felt horrible but strangely at peace.

"Thirty million lost in an acquisition deal, and for a munitions research company of all things. True, I did earn _something_ in that deal, but not the whole eighty million we discussed. They took advantage of me, read up on my studentship and losses at the academy, and, worse, I don't blame them for it. They went into that room prepared, and I only had a few e-mail threads to reference. They deserved to win."

She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. She had missed speaking to Ruby. It felt like so long since the last time she had been able to speak freely. No matter how horrible tomorrow would be or how upsetting today had been, this present moment was nice. Ruby was a good listener, and Weiss needed someone to talk to. "Well, at least there was _some_ good news to come out of this. Your sister won't receive those propulsion shells for Christmas. In point of fact, we won't have to worry about those ever again."

"You did the best you could, Weiss. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"No, Ruby, I did not do the best I could. But that doesn't bother me. What does bother me is the next time I will have to negotiate. I'm woefully unpracticed, and it showed today. If I don't do better next time—"

"You will," Ruby said. "You always do. Every time I've seen you be hard on yourself, you always, _always_ do better the next time. I just think your dad got to you or something. Or maybe you were a bit weirded out by being home. If you'd been there for, like, a week or something, maybe you wouldn't've lost that thirty million. Besides, you didn't even want to be there, and they did! I'm not saying you weren't prepared, but—"

"You don't have to defend me," Weiss interrupted, earning an awkward pause and apology. "But I appreciate you doing so. I know I'm at fault for my own actions—to say otherwise would be immature. But you are correct. I was not in peak condition." Ruby remained silent. Weiss wished she could have seen her now—she wished she could see if this silence was paired with a frown or neutrality, worry or respect. Perhaps if she understood empathy…No. This was no time for self-destruction. Now was the time to be a better person, at least for Ruby's sake. "Either way, thank you. I needed to hear that after today. It might not recoup the money I lost, but I'm glad you have the courage to back me up."

"Yeah. I guess I _am_ kinda cool, huh?"

There she was. Weiss could hear her smile. "Very cool."

Ruby was again silent; however, she was by no means quiet, laughing softly to herself, humming contentedly, and shifting audibly on her sister's leather couch. This, in turn, allowed Weiss to reposition, too. She hugged her knees with one arm, gripping the blanket in the same hand as the other held her phone. She turned to face the window and the navy-black sky beyond. Her headache did not fade, the cold did not abate, but she felt warm again. However, such a position left the three envelopes in her line of vision.

She sighed. This was by no means a melancholy mood—she felt…alive when speaking to Ruby—but it was reflective. She swallowed hard. Why was she doing this—why did she insist on asking? She closed her eyes and spoke. "Ruby, I need to ask you a question."

"Sure. Anything."

"And I need you to be honest with me. There have been many people in my life who have been critical of my character. I've been called names in every language there is, received death threats from the same, and find myself with no friends but three. But I know I can trust you, Ruby—more than anyone else. I need you to be honest with me now—not biased, not friendly. I just need you to tell me the truth. Would you do that for me?"

"I…I can try. I mean…Sorry," Ruby stammered. She made a low noise as though she were considering something before taking a deep breath. "All right, I'll do my best. You've got my word."

Had the situation not been so dire and strange, Weiss would have allowed herself a laugh. Ruby was learning from her, giving her word like that. And even though the young girl's record of keeping promises was not spotless, Weiss took her word anyway. She breathed deeply, moving her eyes away from the envelopes to rest on the cloudy horizon—the infinite sea of shadows she could drift lazily upon. "Am I a bad person?"

The line went quiet. Neither girl reacted—at least audibly. Weiss continued to stare out at the cloud tops, holding the same neutral countenance as when she asked, while Ruby sat stunned in her sister's home theatre. Weiss could not see it, but the young girl's brows furrowed, chin ducking in disappointment, eyes closing to hold back tears.

"When are you getting home?"

"Midday," Weiss replied, not bothering to correct her partner. "But I need your answer."

After another pause, the voice Ruby returned with was solid, a half-octave deeper than her usual soprano. "You _aren't_ a bad person, Weiss. And I mean that." On instinct alone, the heiress found herself trusting this new Ruby. She sounded so certain, so invested. She cared about Weiss. "You're a better person than you give yourself credit for. Yes, you used to be mean. You used to hate everything about our team and wouldn't let us forget it. But you also changed, and that's what separates you from the bad guys.

"You see the mistakes you make, and you fix _all_ of them. You stopped being mean to me when you went a bit too far, and you started taking our team seriously when you saw what we could do. You're also very smart and very nice, and you don't keep that to yourself—you share that with people. Yeah, you can be arrogant sometimes, but that's just who you are. And that doesn't make you evil! That just makes you Weiss. And I like you the way you are—like, besides Yang, you're my best friend! Seriously, you're not a bad person. I'm not saying that you're a great person all the time, but, Weiss…" The girl quietly sniffed, tears evident from her breaking voice. "You're the realest, coolest, prettiest person I know. Please. Stop thinking you're a bad person. It just isn't true."

Now it was Weiss' turn to be struck silent. She did not cry, for those years were long behind her, but she did smile, widely and honestly. Truly, she needed to hear that. After Kaiser Island, she had felt like an utter failure of a person, but Ruby…Weiss could kiss the girl if she were here! A searing wordlessness now gripped at her heart, distracting her headache and making her laugh—a low, breathy chuckle but a laugh nonetheless.

"I miss you," Ruby whispered, voice happy and tender.

"I miss you, too. Truly, Ruby. Thank you for saying that."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it. Just come home safe, all right?"

"I will. You have my word."

"And be prepared for a big hug. You sound like you need one. And, uh, I kinda do, too."

Weiss nodded out at the night as though her partner could see it. "Goodnight, Ruby."

"Goodnight, Weiss."

Both paused, having something but nothing to say, and simultaneously hung up.

Truly, that horribly impossible decision all those months ago was turning out for the best. Weiss continued to laugh as she held her scroll to the fire in her chest. What was thirty million Lien to this? She had a friend now—an honest friend—and neither were bad people! It was a beautiful realization—a consoling realization. Further, the realization was so wonderfully real that it drained Weiss of all her energy. All thoughts of a headache, cold, or those three team-destroying letters were cast aside for Ruby's words. Ruby trusted her. Ruby knew she was valuable. Ruby thought she was cool!

Sleep found the heiress quickly, resting her head against the empty seat beside her and leaving her phone clutched in her hands and by her heart. This would be a deep sleep, filled with full moons and spring breezes—Forever Fall trees bordering a bridge of her life's greatest meeting—and she would laugh until only a smile would remain. By all means, she had won against her father. She might have lost, but she had also changed, and that was what set her apart from him.

* * *

I've missed writing White Rose. I've missed it _a lot_. Really, I enjoy Bumblebee—that's my bread and butter—but you know how variety is supposed to be the spice of life or something? Well, balancing Bumblebee and White Rose is kind of like that. It's certainly a challenge to switch between the fervent, more familiar relationship of Blake and Yang to Ruby and Weiss' budding friendship and unfamiliar flirtations, but it's a rewarding challenge. It'll keep things fresh and moving as we go forward.

Further, I'm excited about this balancing act. I've said it before, but it's worth saying again: _On Kaiser Island_ will be equal parts White Rose and Bumblebee. Admittedly, White Rose might end up with a slight lion's share, but that comes with the territory—no, seriously, look at the title. Even though Blake and Yang's roles in this story are going to be pretty important, I'm not going to sacrifice Ruby and Weiss' content for them; likewise, I won't do the opposite. I want this story to have both White Rose and Bumblebee scenes and themes, but I want them to be interconnected—I want this to be a story about RWBY as a team of four _and_ their partnership relationships. I hope you'll stick around and see if that pans out. But I digress.

Apologies if my Weiss narration was a little off. I haven't written her in a while, and I definitely felt a bit rusty when I did. However, with a bit of fluff to lighten the mood and a week's worth of editing to buff out the rough edges, the final segment turned out all right. At least, I'd like to think so. Reintroducing Weiss into the story was always going to be difficult. Up until that final segment, the story was flowing fairly smoothly, but now she has these letters and fears. What could they mean? Could they really be able to tear Team RWBY apart? Fortunately, you'll get your answers soon—well, soon-ish.

As for Blake, Yang, and Ruby, I'm happy with how their parts turned out. Funnily enough, both the date at the end of Blake's narration and her shopping trip with Ruby used to be underdeveloped yet completely intended scenes for _Valence_ —I wanted Ruby and Blake to have more scenes together and, unrelatedly, I thought of Yang taking Blake out to a rooftop bar. Those were super early ideas for _Valence_ that I had to scrap for pacing's sake, but I'm glad I could repurpose them. _On Kaiser Island_ is going to depend a lot on the Ruby-Yang-Blake dynamic I've been building up in these second and third chapters, and the Ruby-Blake aspect of that has been pretty underdeveloped in my stories. I'm not going to turn Blake into a second Yang and I'm not going to have Ruby and Blake fall in love or anything like that, but, for the sake of the story, I need them to be friends. Hopefully I'll develop them well.

And while I'm on the topic of Ruby, I'd like to make a retraction from the last chapter's author's note. Therein, I stated that Ruby and Winter have never met in this OKI universe, and that was rash of me. Although the scene I had intended to introduce them to each other was one I looked forward to, I realize now that it doesn't really matter—I can achieve the same results without the scene and by having Ruby already know Winter. Unfortunately, this leaves a sizable continuity error set between _On Kaiser Island_ and _Edelweiss_ (Which, by the way, recently passed 100 favorites. Thank you so much!). However, I want to retract my statement from the last chapter regardless. In the continuity of _On Kaiser Island_ , Ruby has met Winter, as briefly as their meeting was in Volume 3.

Really, it's better this way. Less confusion, less hassle—fun times all around.

Also, in regards to Yang and her wine connoisseurship, don't mistake me as making her dependent on alcohol. She's no party girl or alcoholic or anything close to either in this story—I just want to quash those ideas before they can become things. For her dinner, she had a few glasses of wine, and that was it. She might have gotten drunk, she might not have, but either way, I'm going to pardon her because it was Blake's birthday dinner—she had a reason to celebrate.

Part of why I wrote her drinking was to parallel one of the more important scenes in _Valence_ —long story short: Yang had a birthday in the summer, and now she's able to drink legally—but the emphasis on her wine is also there for introductory purposes. Without spoiling anything, I wanted to set a precedent for her being willing and able to drink. I just don't want there to be a surprise when, later in the story, she picks up another glass of wine and enjoys it. Also, the bit about Blake not being able to drink was interesting, I thought. More on that later.

Right now, however, I want to clarify a change in plans. At the beginning of this story, I detailed what type of novel _On Kaiser Island_ would be and how long it would run. I said twenty chapters—that's as long as _Valence_ , and I was sure that would be enough. Unfortunately, it looks like I'm going to bump the number up to twenty-three. _Sorry_. There were a few scenes I cut while planning this story just to shave the chapters down to a clean and even twenty, but, between this chapter and the last, I realized that a few of those scenes were _somewhat_ important. Like, without one, the ending wouldn't make sense. So, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for this heinous lie.

Lastly, I want to thank you all for your generous support. For this story only being on its second chapter, it is doing spectacularly, and that's all thanks to you! So far, you've stuck with me through two terrible delays, a retracted statement, a change in plans, and almost 50,000 words of slow-moving introductions. It means a lot to me that you're this patient. Seriously, you all actually make me feel cared for, and I'm so, so grateful for that. I just want you to know that if it weren't for you, I would have stopped with _Valence_ — _Edelweiss_ wouldn't have been needed and _On Kaiser Island_ just wouldn't be worth the work. So, thank you. This story's for you.

I probably won't see you all again until the new year, so, merry Christmas, happy holidays, and have a happy New Year! Stay safe and stay tuned.


	4. Chapter 4: Heir Aberrant

I'm sorry. Really, there's no excuse I could possibly give for being silent for, what, six months now? I have reasons for it, sure, but they will never justify my lack of communication. I've been pushing back replies to reviews and private messages, drafting and re-drafting updates I could post to my Tumblr, and generally fearing what would happen when this moment came. But that doesn't matter now. I'm sorry, and although I don't expect many of you to accept that, I just want to level with you. In the ending author's note, I'll say more about why I went silent.

Furthermore, I'm not ending _On Kaiser Island_. I'm certainly not giving up on _On Kaiser Island_. And I'm not even close to becoming bored with or tired of _On Kaiser Island_. But I can't promise quick-ish updates anymore. They _may_ happen, and at some point probably will, but life takes priority and decides when I have free time.

Again, I'm sorry. This chapter should have been done months ago. This is especially a problem because chapter four introduces a perspectival style that will be used throughout the novel—when you see what I'm talking about, you'll know what it is, but rest assured that this chapter will have the most blatant and egregious uses of that style. I hope it turned out well.

Okay. Enough of that. It's been months since the last update, so I'll get out of the way. I hope you enjoy chapter four of _On Kaiser Island_.

* * *

Also, a quick recap (I've been asked to do these, and I might as well start now, considering the long absence.): In the last chapter, Yang and Blake went out for Blake's birthday dinner. It was successful, to say the least. Meanwhile, Ruby and Weiss had been texting, Ruby being happy for the chance to text her girlfriend and Weiss being stressed over a trio of letters she had been given by her father. The heiress had just left Atlas and was returning to Vale, fearful and guilty. She arrives today. The month is December, and Vale is cold.

* * *

Chapter 4: Heir Aberrant

A pleasant breeze warmed the halls of Glatteis Manor. The mansion's blinds had been drawn open, letting in the stark northern sun and the whispering ocean winds, while each and every vase and planter was filled to the brim with mainland flowers—beautiful reds and yellows and pinks and oranges, and not those awful, drab, ever-too-indigenous whites and blacks. This Schnee home, so regularly empty and impersonal, was filled now with a springtime cheer—a child's imagination of normalcy and that imagination's blossom into excitement.

It was a warm, sunny day in Atlas, the young heiress was free to wear her favorite dress—sans coat for the first time this year!—and, best of all, Weiss' kindergarten tutors had just let her out for lunch.

Her joy came as a veritable storm, a flurry of frills and a clatter of flats against marble stone halls. She ran as fast as she could, eyes bright and grin wide, as she searched for today's lunch companion. In truth, there was only one person she liked to dine with, only one friend she really had, but no self-deriding thought ever came of this. No, she was far too happy right now. She had her favorite dress, her favorite shoes, her favorite meal, and, as she now decided, her favorite day. Life was looking up for the sprightly, young girl in white.

Weiss stumbled around the first corner, but her smile never wavered. She was a lady, after all, and her poise was never to fail! But she did take off into a relative sprint at this first straightaway, spying a distant red sight and squealing quietly at its approach. The sun was shining, the waxed floors were glittering, and Weiss' eyes shone at the prospect of seeing that red sight again. She pushed herself as hard as she could, shoes clattering loudly and eschewing all efforts of stealth, and her squeal became audible as that nearing sight of white and red turned to face her, grinning equally as wide and kneeling down for a hug.

"Mama!" cheered Weiss.

But as soon as that woman—so bright and eager—knelt down not ten paces away, her young lady's poise failed, causing yet another stumble. Weiss' squeal became a gasp, her eyes went wide, and as she sent herself careening towards the hard floor, the woman in white stepped forward and caught her—hugging Weiss so easily and bringing her squeal back to thankful life.

Cold, slender, and wonderfully gentle fingers combed through Weiss' hair. "Hey there, little critter. I was just coming to find you."

The young girl giggled, laughing into her mother's jacketed shoulder as she was pulled up and off the ground to rest in the same woman's arms. Alexia let out the softest, airiest, most beautiful laugh Weiss had ever heard—she always did, now that the heiress thought about it, and that thought only caused her to laugh, too. "Well, I found you first!"

"You _did_?"

"Mm-hmm!"

"Well! I guess I'll have to do a better job at hiding next time, won't I?"

Weiss tried, but ultimately failed, to throw her arms around her mother's neck. "I'll _always_ find you, mama!" They began to move through the manor's halls, passing by the open shutters and towards the inevitable kitchen—Winter and Father always lunched at reasonable, scheduled, _boring_ times, but not Weiss and Alexia! No, they were always so busy with tutors and associates, but they always found time for each other and the snacks they made together. Such was why Weiss admired the woman she hugged. Alexia had been a model in her past life, an empowering leader in her practiced field and heroic beauty in Weiss' shining eyes, and now she was a diplomat—a spokesperson, a negotiator, a Schnee Dust Company executive. And she excelled in every area. Truly, she was a perfect fit for Weiss' greatest hero!

"So," Alexia began with a casual drawl, fixing something on the back of Weiss' collar, "isn't it a little early for you to get out of your studies? I thought Dr. Primrose had you until one? Did you skip his lessons again? Because you know I wouldn't blame you, but that's still not a nice thing to do."

"Nope! Me and—"

"Dr. Primrose and I," her mother corrected. "And did you tell Tyr where you were going? The man has a hard enough time keeping track of Winter, let alone _you_."

The young Schnee shook her head. "Dr. Primrose and I started the ah…acc-use… the a-accusative case today!" She felt so proud at having learned Ancient Atlesian, even though, apparently, it was not used anymore. "It is a language for scholars," Dr. Primrose had said. "And it would behoove any Schnee to learn it so to further her knowledge of her family's history." Yeah, right. Like history was any fun! But Weiss shook her head again, this time more adamantly. "And he let me out early for learning so well!"

"Oh? Then I suppose you'd have no trouble showing me what you learned."

Never one to refuse a challenge, Weiss closed her eyes and calmed herself, clearing her throat and mentally rehearsing her response. When she looked to Alexia again, blue eyes met sparkling blue, and she said, "Ich liebe dich, Mama!"

Alexia smirked, proud. "Du liebst _mich_? Nein! Ich liebe _dich_ , mein Äpfelchen!"

With this, the older Schnee attacked the younger with a flurry of kisses, earning a giggling cry as Weiss tried to dodge them all. But she did not mind at all. No, she was going to have lunch with her mother, and she could not be happier. "Äpfelchen!" she echoed, cheering the word into her mother's shoulder. This received a laugh, pat on the back, and a side-to-side sway.

"You're gonna be a big, strong girl one day," Alexia assured. "I wish I'd been able to learn what you're learning at your age—maybe then I'd be half as smart as you're going to be. Did you know that I didn't learn Atlesian until I got to college? I really should have learned it earlier—I love the language—but I never had what we have now."

"But you _are_ smart, mama!"

"Maybe," sighed the older Schnee. She then formed a mischievous grin. "But you know what is _really_ smart?"

"What's that?"

"Breakfast for lunch."

Weiss gasped. Her mind raced and strained—had she heard correctly? "You can do that?"

Alexia nodded. "Pancakes and oranges and _chocolate chip_ pancakes and coffee—"

"Coffee?" The heiress stared at her mother, mouth agape.

" _Coffee_. With as much cream and sugar as you could ever want." Unfortunately, before Weiss could bounce with glee, Alexia held up a warning finger. "But just a little—no more than one cup. Orfeo has you at two for voice lessons, and I know he's going to get on my case for this. Still, I think you can handle it. Don't _you_?"

Weiss nodded.

"Of course you do," winked Alexia. "Now c'mon! Let's go cook us up some pancakes while the chefs are in forgiving moods."

With an eager cheer and an airy laugh, the two of white carried on down the sunny, springtime corridors. Every day was busy in the Schnee household, be it due to business or statecraft or school or war. But on days like this—days where the stars and schedules were perfectly aligned—Weiss could be happy and enjoy her best friend's company. She was going to have breakfast for lunch! It was inconceivable— _unladylike_ —but it was happening and they were going and they still had so much time left to enjoy it. And there would be coffee! She could hardly wait.

Nevertheless, she would revel in every second of that day because her mother was with her. Alexia was strong, friendly, and knew everything that was right. She was a hero by every definition of the word, and she was who Weiss wanted to be. In truth, the heiress, in her six years of age, did prioritize her eventual and unachievable role of a princess over the more realistic role of Alexia's successor, but the idea of mimicry and similarity would never not sound appealing, at least in the case of her mother. For all Weiss' life, Alexia would be the impossible-to-reach benchmark for greatness.

Certainly, Weiss could achieve great wealth and prestige on her own, but to be kind and encouraging and charmingly effective? That was not who she was—that was who no Schnee, aside from her mother, had or ever would be again. It was a sad truth but a truth nonetheless.

However, Weiss' life was made much more fulfilling by striving to surpass her mother's benchmark. Otto and Winter had also been accounted for and, unfortunately, skewed her idea of greatness. But, deep down, Weiss knew who she wanted to be. Her newest goal had been to double back the wayward path she had strayed and become a better, softer, more deserving person.

She released her scowl. Weiss did not smile, she most certainly did not cheer, and all she once had to chase was trapped firmly in her memories. If ever a meditative fury could exist, this would be it. She sipped at her coffee—a bitter, creamless, self-served brew she would have avoided had an alternative existed—and simply frowned, sitting alone in Vale's international terminal and waiting for a reasonable time. Her head pounded, the long-anticipated travel headache having reared its ugly self, but the caffeine did nothing to soothe the ornery knot. However, she found a distracting, anesthetizing peace in looking through the terminal's giant windows, out at the hazy purple twilight and the silver airship specters drifting up through the mist. It hurt to think, but she could not stop.

Today was her judgment day—today, she had arrived in Vale.

Unfortunately, she was not alone here. Although the airport had been empty and silent on this stark Sunday morning, Weiss found herself surrounded by four suited guards. Had she been her father, these four would have stood beside her, watching the sky across the bay, or, had she been Winter, they would have faced outwards. But she was neither, and thus their steely gazes faced her. These assistants surely did not see her as a threat—despite the heiress' self-effacing boasts, no one beyond Ruby truly saw her as such—but they had every right to defend themselves from her, to hate her. It was only just.

Of course, they also had every right to hate her elsewhere. Their help was unneeded, and their presence was annoying, and Weiss had made these headache-induced judgments very clear already. Likewise, however, they had been just as clear that her importance paled in comparison to that of her letters'. Admittedly, the assistants' assurance had been somewhat deserved, what with the heiress' previous, seventeen-year-old threats of unemployment and personal ruin.

For the first time this morning, Weiss smirked. She could appreciate Yang's perspective now—she really had been a vile child. How she missed the oaf.

A sudden light in the purple haze caught the heiress' attention, easing her smirk and fury tandemly into an even frown. Beyond the misty tarmac, beyond the intermittently trafficked highway, and far off on the darkened bay's waters, a line of orange raced across the horizon. The assistants failed to budge—they were lifeless pawns, anyway, so their involvement should not have mattered—but Weiss betrayed her ascetic evenness, budging visibly and holding her coffee close while she watched the day roll in.

Apathy was a voracious beast—never sated, never thrilled—and although she preferred her station, her profession, and mornings in general, all the joy she once held for them had been painstakingly bled, leaving nothing but a withered husk of spite and short-tempered fury. But sunrises were an exception. Weiss could lose herself in a sunrise, however cold the day or high the latitude, and often did so to fight that covetous beast. She could be alone with a sunrise, a singular enthusiast while others were still asleep, and she could convince herself that the day to come was not worth being feared. She could be alone with a sunrise—alone with herself and the thousand other Remnants who shared in this lonesome intimacy.

This was her thing, her hobby. And no guard or father or plummeting self-esteem could ever take that away from her. Even the coffee tasted sweeter now, like oranges and chocolates on a long-lost Friday morning. She could not help but smile at this thought, at the approaching red's warmth, and thus she clutched at the pendant hanging forever by her heart.

But even as the horizonal orange rose to meet the day, turning the purple dawn turquoise and the leaden clouds bright, she would not cry. Had she the tears, she most certainly would have let them fall, but…well, her apathy had not come from nowhere. Instead, she smiled at the colors, wistful for once, and shut out the world to be by herself. She was happier this way—the world was, too. The turquoise sky turned a strident white, magenta clouds faded to the same, and that red-orange sliver, which had been a momentary source of encouragement, now blinded the heiress who dared not look away.

She was in Vale now, the letters resting on the table before her were primed to destroy the only decent people left on Remnant, and she would be the one to deliver them—to feed her team to that ravenous beast. But that was okay. Weiss was far from superstitious, yet something nagged at the back of her aching mind—something good and naïve—that told her Team RWBY would be safe. Perhaps it had been her headache, perhaps last night's pleasant dreams, but the fact of the matter was that Weiss had been mortified by her courier task. Nevertheless, she was sure something would turn out right, no matter whose definition of "right" she was using.

With a final sip from her paper cup, she rose, shouldering her singular bag and sending a scowling glower at the nearest assistant. He regarded her calmly. "Let's get this over with."

The five lone occupants of Vale's international terminal marched briskly and with Atlas' prided purpose towards a fate Weiss would never run from. It was no challenge to accept or obstacle to overcome; she was a Schnee above all else, whether that interfered with her team or not, and had given her word—to her family, to her kingdom, to old King Atlas. And although she missed the warmth of summer and the colors of spring and that beautiful, airy laugh of too long ago, her life was bound to coldness now. To duty. There should be no joy in the shadow of war, no refuge from her family's dynastic burden. Weiss would deliver these messages because she was a Schnee. And because she was a Schnee, she would not hesitate to do the right thing.

Yet her scowl would harden. And her grip would tighten. And her mind would wax hopeful that something would go well. In truth, she wanted to see her friends again. She wanted to see them happy one last time before they read their demise. More than that, though, she wanted the hug Ruby had offered. No, she _needed_ that hug. For just one moment, she needed to be Weiss—not a Schnee—in Ruby's arms. She needed her friend.

* * *

It was funny. For all the novels, poems, histories, and propagandas Blake had read in her nineteen years of life, academic writing was still something of a mystery to her. Between her mother, a professor of Literature at Sierra's community college and parent of a runaway child, and the White Fang, an organization which taught of governments and antiquated social structures, Blake's education could hardly be called terrible. But, admittedly, it had also been rather lacking with regards to the skills needed to form unique and personal ideas. But now she had an essay to write—an essay, no less, which focused on a unique and personal subject—and it was funny to her how out of her element she felt.

Fortunately, this was a good feeling—an adventurous feeling.

Either that or it was just a good morning. Yeah, that was definitely it.

Every couple sentences, this good morning would inspire Blake to make her paper far less important than its margins. She felt like the schoolgirls she had once read of—those blushing, mousy sorts with crushes and letters, fears of rejection and joys of affirmation—and felt like laughing at the inapplicableness of the comparison. But she would not. Instead, she would procrastinate and smirk a big, dumb smirk, gazing longingly out the kitchen sink's window at the morning sun. Her hand moved on its own, no longer writing but instead drawing cowlick curves—she was one step away from drawing hearts with "B + Y" etched in their centers, and, frankly, she considered taking that step. But she was content to smile and let her heart flutter.

She smirked that big, dumb smirk and almost felt like giggling. _Giggling_.

Last night had been…well, it had been a lot of things—a lot of things Blake could be proud of. Yang had been happy—thrilled, conversational, and effusive despite her angst. And Blake had been happy in turn. She had indeed been a schoolgirl once upon a time—once upon a time of distrust and wayward rage—but now she realized that because of the insatiable crush that had consumed her at the end of last year, she had found a sense of normalcy. Yang had loved her last night—exclusively, no less, and with a constant urge to make her Faunus smile.

Blake's present smile widened, and her pencil's arcs curved around the opposite direction. If she closed her eyes—which, in this case, she did—she could see the rooftop, hear the Christmas tune, and feel the way Yang had held her, dancing like there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She wanted to be with Blake. And Blake wanted to be with her. And this thought alone was ridiculous enough that Blake did laugh, her hand now drawing those offensively un-Blake-like hearts.

But she would not add the letters—no, that would be one step too far. She might have been a hapless schoolgirl at heart, albeit only when it came to Yang, but she still had some pride left to uphold. And Yang would only tease her if the letters were to be written. But the hearts were drawn and the margins overcrowded, and, suddenly, essays seemed boring.

She sighed.

Today was a good day—it was bound to be, judging by the way it had started. Again Blake had woken up beside Yang, an endgame luxury if ever there was one, and had done so without her leader's _direct_ interference—a locked door from the night before had thankfully taken care of that. But it is not to say that Ruby did not play a part in this too-early awakening. Rather, it had been her alarm clocks—all three of them, including the one placed urgently under her pillow—and their simultaneous racket which had brought her teammates to a groaning start. But Yang could forgive this, and Blake just the same. Weiss was coming home, and Ruby's cheers had echoed in the dawn.

Admittedly, though, the girl _might_ have overdone it, being that Weiss was scheduled to land at 5:45—a time Ruby had vehemently repeated—while her alarms were set almost an hour before. But this was no matter. Yang complained for little more than a minute before she soldiered through her discomfort, got dressed, and hurried off to keep Ruby entertained. Now it was seven, and Weiss was presumably on her way. Unfortunately, she had not returned any of Ruby's texts, so it could not be said that she was certainly on her way, but Ruby had vocal faith.

All this excitement, from both today and last night, had meanwhile left Blake somewhere between flustered and excited—anxious was almost a fitting word, but she felt strangely at ease among the sisters' preparatory energy. Unfortunately, all the sources of excitement stretched her rare enthusiasm between three different points, but that was what she had come to expect from this rambunctious little house.

Ruby was excited for Weiss. Yang was excited for Ruby. And Blake's heart was excited for them both while her mind focused on the History and Moral Philosophy essay before her. Truly, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

The final nail in her work ethic's coffin was then hammered in by an annoyed groan, which perked the Faunus' ears. They twitched, focusing on Ruby's maniacal laugh and…Her eyes widened brightly. She also heard the crunching of carpet. Blake's derelict hand calmed, her gaze shifted back to the paper's heartful margins, and her own heart began to race. All the while, she kept her smile composed.

Warmth filled the air. A contented, wholly interested hum followed a squeaky yawn, and, before Blake knew it, a pair of soft yet unyielding arms wrapped her in a shoulder-crushing hug. But Blake melted into this touch, all notions of studiousness evaporating in a flash. She hugged back as best she could, dropping her pencil to hold the arms around her chest, thereby earning her cheek a thankful kiss. And this kiss held as that hum continued, Yang nuzzling grinningly into her partner's skin.

"Cute drawings, nerd," she said at last, releasing the kiss with an exaggerated _pop_ and resting her head on Blake's shoulder. "They for me?"

Blake closed her eyes, sighed, and whispered, "Who else?"

"Aw, don't make me answer that." Although Yang neither pouted nor froze, her words demanded conversation, and a most familiar mind was willing to oblige. With arms constricted and body swaying to Yang's happy beat, all Blake could move was her head. But she would make do.

Maintaining her smirk, the Faunus turned to meet her partner's curious eyes, attempted and failed a cheek-pulling wink, and kissed the girl. Yang's arms slackened, her posture straightened, and, as the room's temperature spiked, she moved her seated partner's expression to an easy, schoolgirl grin. They sighed as they pulled away, Yang whispering back, "But I appreciate it. You're on my mind, too."

Blake simply watched, amused and expectant, as Yang tightened her grip for one more second before she let go with a satisfied laugh. The blonde moved across the room, dancing an untrained, unrestrained dance and reveling in the morning's ease. Blake, meanwhile, could not help but smile. How she had gotten involved with such a happy, enthusiastic, and lively girl was still a baffling, occasionally angst-dependent story, but as Yang moved to her mind's melody, Blake felt proud. This was a welcome change, a needed change, and as the essay was exchanged for pizza, Blake could relax.

"By the way," Yang began absently, starting to rummage through her recently stocked fridge, "you _might_ have misspelled 'field' in your second paragraph. You know, just maybe."

Indeed, the typo did exist—and it was frustratingly inexcusable considering the days of planning Blake had put into this project—but the Faunus merely blinked, unsure how to react. On one hand, she had made such a low-importance mistake that she had to wonder how awake she really was; but, on the other hand, Yang had been the one to correct her. Yang. Blake blinked again and smiled—it was just a simple mistake, after all.

"Yeah, I wasn't too big on languages and stuff back at Signal," said Yang, head still in the fridge. "I mean, I passed everything, but it just wasn't my thing, you know? If there's one thing I remember from Ancient Atlesian class, though, it's that E after I makes an E sound while I after E makes an I sound." Her entire body paused, and Blake could practically see her uncertain frown. "Well, sometimes…I think. You know, I'm probably not explaining it right, but—"

"But I appreciate it."

With eyes trained on the essay and with hands occupied by pizza and pencil, Blake did not see her girlfriend's smile. Yang had left her fridge, taken aback by something most likely small, but smiled nevertheless. "Yeah," the blonde sighed, laughing to herself. "No problem."

Blake looked up at the girl. Her mistake had been a simple one to fix, and now the essay could be safely pushed to the back of her mind while Yang could be pulled eagerly to the front. Eager indeed, Blake did not bother to restrain her smile and neither did Yang.

The two just looked at each other for a moment, Blake's breakfast resting now on her plate while Yang's door was left open and leaned upon. They smirked and watched, saying both something and nothing as they each challenged the other to speak first. But this was not a competition. Simply, Blake was amused by her own attempt at telepathy, her attempt to transmit the unarticulated gratitudes and compliments she was struggling to hold back. But Yang seemed to be in much a similar state. Her eyes burned with that prideful zeal—a heartfelt cross between adoration and ownership—and focused completely on the similarly ardent Faunus.

Yang's smirk jumped. Blake's eyes squinted.

"Heads up," was all the former said, the latter moving to react.

With a simple flick of her wrist, a previously concealed water bottle took flight. Between Yang's strength and mischief, the bottle's speed could not have been, in any way, slow. It rocketed across the room, plastic wrapper rattling as it soared from the fridge-side cabinet, over the room's central island, and into the waiting hand of Blake.

In less than a second, the Faunus opened the bottle wordlessly, leaving her girlfriend without the satisfaction she assumingly craved, and drank. Yang laughed. "Jumpy today, aren't we?" A replying eyebrow was raised to this. "Oh, right. How could I forget? That's every day for you, kitty cat."

"Well, I, for one, think it's warranted."

"Why? Because you think I'm gonna throw bottles at you all day?"

"No. Because I think you'll spend all day trying to make me smile." Blake screwed the cap onto her bottle and set her water down. "And we don't want that, do we?"

"Nope. _We_ don't. But I do!" The fridge was shut, and Yang moved to lean against the island, opposite her partner. She appeared almost smug. "Seems to be working, though, huh?"

"Seems to be," Blake conceded absently, looking away. She wanted to be affectionate, to be grateful, and tell Yang everything that was on her mind—all the little Yang-isms she had come to adore and each and every tooth her girlfriend bared with her mirth—but the game they played was far too fun. As such, Blake could not allow Yang her peace of mind. "I do have to wonder, though, why you're here and not with Ruby. Perhaps you want something from me?"

Yang looked up for a moment, feigning thought. "Uh…Well, I _did_ want company and kisses, but we've already covered that. I could go for a laugh right now if you're willing to offer one, but I don't have anything to pay you with."

She was always joking, always sincere—always running. But reeling her back in was what Blake was for. The Faunus did not laugh like Yang wanted her to—Blake believed that doing so would only enable Yang's avoidant games, not to mention disingenuous—but she did smile. "Yang," she chided.

"What?"

The Faunus continued to watch her, waiting.

An eyebrow raise, a swig of water, a matching smile, and its subsequent fall to exasperation marked Yang's journey to honesty. The blonde shook her head and looked over at the microwave's clock, avoiding her girlfriend's now-genuinely amused expression. "Fine, fine. _Besides_ wanting to check up on you, Ruby's…kinda sorta _maybe_ thrashing me at _Fight Streeter_. I came out here to take a break."

"Before something bad happens?"

"Dude, that entire experience was bad. I'm out here so I don't do something I regret."

"Well, if it comes as any consolation—"

"Eh, don't worry about it. I just needed to clear my head before I got mad at her or something."

"So, I take it nothing good happened for you?"

"Nah," drawled Yang. "Ruby was cackling like a maniac. And that's really all I can ask for. Having her just sit around, waiting God knows how long for Weiss to get here—it just hurts to watch, you know? I can't imagine what she's even thinking right now." The blonde then paused, her eyes slowly squinting before opening again with a glint. "I mean, it doesn't hurt as much as losing to her, but you know."

Responses concerning Yang's parenting ability and compliments for her sense of humor raced through Blake's mind in much the same way schoolgirl drawings and otherwise uncharacteristic teases often did—they were natural responses, given the proper motivation. But Blake neither responded nor complimented. Instead, she said simply, "Come on."

"What do you mean, 'Come on'?"

"Break's over." Blake stood. "You've had your water. Now I'm taking you back to Ruby so she can continue your thrashing."

Yang just looked at her for a moment, appalled. "Wow. _Rude_."

This received nothing more than a so-what eye roll before Blake took her partner's hand, pulling Yang around the island and out of the kitchen. Blake was done with her essay for the day—she thought that any further additions would doubtlessly be half-hearted and uninspired—and that meant she was free to spend time with Yang. She could not be happier.

Despite Yang's offended claim, though, the girl in yellow offered no resistance as she was dragged along. The couple left the kitchen smilingly and moved through the house the same, but as soon as they reached the sisters' home theater, Yang's smile dropped. This was no serious shift, Blake could be sure, but there was a particular intensity about her expression, and this intensity was focused on the still-giggling Ruby.

"Hey, loser." Yang's right eye twitched at the young girl's tease. "Back for round ten?"

"It's round _nine_."

"Nah. You walked out on round nine. And you know what that means?"

Yang just looked at her sister, seemingly ready to kill.

" _Disqualified_."

"Ruby, I am, like, _this_ close to grounding you."

At this, the sisters' facades disintegrated, Ruby falling to a fit of giggles first. Blake, however, could only stand by and smile at the laughing two—neither could ever be mad at the other, at least not for long, and that they shared with Blake the same warmth and nonchalance that they shared with each other was still yet peculiar. But that was why Blake smiled. Peculiar as their shared familiarity was, this house was home to her, and so too were its occupants. There was comfort here, a common ground, and it was here that she had found a path from away who she was and toward who she wanted to be. Yang smiled at her, and, with that same smile, the three took their seats.

Blake moved aside so the two could have their time. Ruby and Yang sat together on the middle section of their theater's couch, both looking at the television and leaving the girl in black to watch.

"All right," Yang exhaled. "Back to the drawing boards."

"Board," corrected Blake.

"Yang, you're picking _another_ new character?"

"Oh, boy. Here we go with the 'Yaaang, you gotta pick a character and practice with it' speech."

"But—"

"First of all…" Interrupting herself, the blonde squinted at the screen, selecting what appeared to be a fish man—a fish man who, Blake observed, was nothing more than a trout with the excruciatingly muscular arms and legs of a human man. Satisfied, Yang returned to her train of thought. "First of all, I'm not a cheater— _not like you_. I actually _like_ to have fun and be fair and be a good person, so practicing with a character would be bad. It'd be like rigging the game."

Ruby seemed to disagree, but she smiled nevertheless and prodded, "Uh-huh. Sure. And second of all?"

"And…Uh." The sisters looked at each other before Yang started the game. "And shut up. That's what."

Blake smirked. "I imagine this is why you keep losing."

This received an eye roll, its sender now preoccupied with the task set before her. But Ruby, growing more and more confident with her abilities, jabbed, too. "Yeah, once you get Yang started on numbers, she's pretty much guaranteed to start tripping over herself. It's kinda funny, though. She tries being so smooth when she's doing this, but _nope_. She just puts her foot in her mouth." The screen opened to an outdoor colosseum, which the two combatants were standing in the center of, but Yang's gaze had been taken away. It now focused on the side of Ruby's head with deadly precision. "Every. Time."

"Begin!"

At the sound of the announcer's voice, the two began—although Yang did jolt at first before focusing in earnest. The fish man and what appeared to be a normal, if not coincidentally short, girl squared off in the center of the ring. But this stillness did not last for long. Ruby's character jumped back, and Yang's acted in kind only a second later.

Blake could not say she was invested in this fight. Certainly, it was entertaining, and she would admit to rooting quietly for Yang, but more interesting than the game were its players. Having excepted her girlfriend, who was both aforementionedly and permanently entertaining, the Faunus focused on her leader. The young girl was enthused, focused, and proved far more capable at gibing her sister in this time of competition than she normally should have been. In a way, it was funny. Yang was, for once, the one trying to catch up while Ruby cat-and-moused her.

But then Ruby looked away from the screen. Her fingers still moved as they should, her sister being deftly countered without fail, yet she was compelled to look down at the scroll in her lap and frown. Despite her joy and bite, Ruby was bored. Weiss was on her way back, and no amount of distraction could keep the young girl's mind off that. The drive from the airport was a long one, and with someone as important to Ruby as Weiss was, a longer drive meant greater worry. The sisters were indeed having fun with their game, but Ruby's mind was elsewhere—her joy was a façade, no matter how truly she smiled.

With an in-game roar of, "Victory!" the match was over, and Ruby then cheered. Her eyes were alight again with genuine happiness, and, for a moment, she seemed patient.

"Wh—How dare you! Cheater! Rematch, right now!"

More likely than not, Yang understood Ruby's situation. She may not have thought highly of Weiss' girlfriending ability, but empathy ran in the family, and as Yang worried for Blake, Ruby surely worried for Weiss. And Yang knew this. Moreover, Weiss made Ruby happy, at least in most cases recently, and because that happiness was genuine and not coerced, the concept of Ruby's relationship was not entirely despicable. So, while Yang may have disliked Weiss' role in Ruby's life, she disliked Ruby's worry far more. Yang would entertain thusly, as was wont of her.

"I never cheated!" Ruby argued, honestly engaged with the conversation.

"You were looking at your phone!"

"You were looking at _me_. I thought you told me never to take my eyes off the pr—"

"Ugh. I also told you to do as I say, not as I—"

Yang was interrupted by a jab to her arm. With a smirking shake of her head, Blake disapproved. Ruby giggled. Yang, reactively, feigned offense, throwing a hand over her forehead and falling across the couch's armrest and into her girlfriend's lap.

"Turned on by my family and friends!" she theatrically cried. "Traitors, the lot of you! What could I have done to deserve this lonely fate?"

The two of red and black looked at each other.

"Sucked at _Fight Streeter_."

"Refused to take responsibility for your defeat."

"Gave me advice you don't follow."

"Interrupted my essay."

At this, Yang lifted her hand and peeked up at the golden eyes looking down at her. She stage-whispered, "Is it wrong that I'm not sorry for _any_ of that?"

As Blake sighed, putting her partner's hand back over her eyes, Ruby gave an exasperated cry of, "Yaaang!" But this only made the blonde bark with laughter. Now the sisters' competition had fully and finally extended beyond their game, leaving Ruby's scroll presently unattended. But this was fine, Blake figured. Although Yang's distraction and entertainment might not have been the most honest or holistic method of care, it was working. And as Ruby pushed her sister's legs away and stood with an audible huff, the room's mirth only grew.

Yet the young girl's scroll, left behind and facedown on her sectional seat, would vibrate, a short courtesy message illuminating the screen, before dimming unnoticed.

* * *

Weiss frowned, setting her scroll in her lap.

In all honesty, she was scared—Weiss Schnee, _scared_. The thought was as ridiculous as it seemed, but, really, so was her entire situation. Running to Beacon because of a familial spat, making friends of her stubborn, piecemeal team, asking her leader—who was, moreover, another girl—to engage in a _romantic_ relationship, and now her father writing her nobody teammates letters? Ridiculous. Simply mad. But that was just the way things were, and now the calm, cool, and proudly rational heiress was riding headlong into this irrational, implacable, and thoroughly idiotic end. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Therefore, there was no use in tearing her hair out, as much as she would have liked to. She would sit and wait, dreading quietly instead of visibly, and think of the passing sights instead of her friends.

Vale was a beautiful city. A _warm_ city. The Schnees had always been loyal to Atlas, so it was no surprise that the family company had only expanded into Mistral and Vale at the end of the last age, some two hundred years ago. But perhaps when Weiss was finished with school, when she had proven herself to the world and accomplished all she needed to in re-connoting her family's name, she would buy—or, preferably, build—a summer home here. She would be the first Schnee to reside outside of Atlas, bringing all the amenities and luxuries of Kaiser Island to a private, quiet vineyard that sat within view of the shore. It would be good to get away from all the snow.

Or, rather, it would have been. Weiss' gaze shifted from passing suburbs to the envelopes strewn haphazardly on the furthest seat from her. These ridiculous things. Words—sentiments. She had spent an entire night, flight, and drive worrying about those words, and she knew this was, to some extent, an overreaction. But she hated those words with such an uncharacteristic passion for what they _could_ do. They deserved fire, and her friends deserved ignorance. But, again, the letters were inevitable, and Weiss was simply a courtesy. Should the envelopes be burned, it would be no trouble for the postal service to arrive at the sisters' home only a day later. As such, Weiss had treated the letters one measure of disdain below burning them: she had thrown them.

Just like a child, she thought. Throwing letters, complaining about chores she would do anyway. She was trying to think herself out of the situation, and it was immature.

The houses beyond Weiss' tinted windows grew scarcer as her thoughts wandered further on until at last those houses stopped. Then came the grasses and the prospective, empty lots. Traffic began to thin and businesses grew smaller and smaller. And then came the trees—a single four-lane road cutting through bare trunks and evergreens alike. And then the dread returned.

Ruby had not texted back yet. She _always_ replied. It was plainly irrational to think, but could she have known? Could she have known from Weiss' voice over the phone last night? From the hesitance, the out-of-character emotion?

Weiss shook her head. Calm. Breathe. Focus. She was minutes away from the sisters' home, and no progress would ever be made if she were to worry the entire time. She was a Schnee. Schnees never worried. Schnees were never scared. Schnees led, fought, won. The letters in the faraway seat were just words—ink on paper—and would hold no power if she did not wish them to.

If they were accepted and their contents agreed to, then the inevitable disbanding would be blood on RWBY's hands, not Weiss'. Yes, that was where the blame would lie. If offense is taken by an unforeseen letter's news, it is not the messenger who is to blame for that offense but instead the recipient, whose weakness is in contingency. RWBY _could_ pull through, Weiss had many times considered, for they had grown together in the face of countless adversities. But it would be difficult. Perhaps it was narcissism, perhaps arrogance, but Weiss believed that if she, herself, could not withstand the letters' punishment, then her teammates would break quickly.

Ruby had not texted back yet, and Weiss was scared. Just one more moment of normalcy was all she asked for. Just one more smile.

* * *

"I swear, I was better at this before! Just…somebody changed all the combos!"

"Nah. You're just getting old, Yang."

"There is a _fine_ line, Ruby—"

" _Oh, look at me. I'm Yang. Sorry, Ruby. I can't go Christmas shopping with you guys 'cause I gotta get groceries. Ooh, and maybe I'll pay the bills after. And then I'm off to bingo!_ "

"I do _not_ sound like that!"

"Well, it's either that, or you sound like a big, old baby. Blake's beating you so bad that you just can't stop crying."

"Wh—"

"You know," Blake began slowly, trying not to take her focus away from the screen, "these matches would go a _lot_ better for you if you just focused—"

"Yeah, I kn—"

"—and stopped crying."

"Blake!" Yang's eyes widened, her mouth hanging open in offense. "You too?"

Ruby stood—or, rather, sat—in the Faunus' corner, giggling at her sister's dismay while lending the girl in black moral support. All of Yang's combos—or, at least, all the combos she tried—were no match for Blake's simplicity. No wonder Ruby had been able to shut her sister out; the fish-man was jumping and running about in frenzied, mistaken patterns while Blake could take her time with a steady barrage of light and heavy attacks. Blake had entertained the thought of her partner playing this way for the sake of comedic loss, but this past half hour had affirmed her and Ruby's original suspicions: Yang was just plain bad at _Fight Streeter_.

It certainly did not help that she was so easy to tease.

"Okay. I am _not_ crying. I _am_ winning this match."

"Currently, Yang, you're not."

"I _will_."

"Tenses exist for a reason."

" _Tenses exist for a reason_. Oh, why don't you go write a book?"

"Because I'm too busy beating you."

"Ooh. Burn."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't be if…" Yang inhaled sharply—angrily—and exhaled with a lilac-eyed exclamation, "If I could get this stupid lightning hands move to actually work!"

With a final, effete jab, Yang's fish-man fell.

"You know what? Fine. Whatever. You win." Yang stood from her seat, tossing her controller back against the couch. "I'm gonna be the better person here and just walk away. There's no need to make a big deal out of it. I lost. Fair and square, too! So, I'm just gonna be a humble and gracious loser and walk away. But, Blakey, I'm gonna go find us a couple's counselor right quick so—"

"So they can beat you, too?" interrupted Ruby.

Yang exhaled explosively, staring daggers at her sister.

The young girl giggled.

Although Yang's tacitly threatened tickle fight might have been an endearing yet entirely uncomfortable-to-watch sight, Blake felt the need to diffuse the situation. The sisters had a way of going too far with their jokes, especially when around each other. And with the present teasing-offense dynamic playing out, it was only a matter of time until their façades became genuine. That was the last thing they needed today. As such, Blake caught her girlfriend's attention with a smile.

That seemed to work. In a matter of seconds, Yang's peripheral was seemingly mesmerized by a sight she had come to adore, and with her peripheral came an eventual, reciprocating expression. Unfortunately for Ruby, this change in attention did not come without consequence—Yang had pushed the poor girl aside with a hand on her face—and while that consequence was dealt with by blinks and bearing-getting shakes of a head, Yang strode happily over to where she had been invited.

She sat on the armrest beside her girlfriend, placing an arm around said Faunus' shoulders, and dismissed her sister's returned glare. "You know I was kidding about the counselor thing, right?" she asked quietly. Evidently, she had figured out Blake's purpose in getting her attention. Yang's jokes had paused.

"I know."

"So, no hard feelings?"

"None," Blake assured. She rested her head against Yang's side. "And thank you for going easy on me."

A growling grimace then crossed the blonde's face. "That's…not…" Her voice turned to something of a joking half-sob. " _Blake_. I thought we were having a moment."

They still were, at least if Blake had any say, so the Faunus proved this by setting her controller down, closing her eyes, and letting Yang's arm pull her closer. Ruby could stay "mad" all she wanted; regardless of what her audience thought about it—and it is to say that Yang thought it amusing, soon teasing her sister about how her virtual skill did not translate into real-world skill—what was important was that Ruby was happy. Weiss was on her way and, ostensibly, it was no big deal. Ruby could not worry if she was preoccupied with banter; she could not be stressed if the mood was so light.

And, to be quite honest, Blake found herself enjoying this lopsided back-and-forth. Sure, teaming up with Ruby was nice and bonding, but the real joy—for both girls—came from Yang's piteous offense. Whether or not this was fully disingenuous, Blake did not know, but the fact of the matter was that for a two-on-one fight, Yang had done well for herself.

Perhaps Yang knew that. Perhaps she knew that Ruby was sufficiently distracted and their situation was calm. Perhaps that was why she pulled Blake into a tighter side-hug, jovial warmth spreading through the room. If Ruby was happy, then Yang was happy. And if Yang was happy, then Blake was happy. Therefore, Blake reiterated to herself, it was in her best interest to make Yang _and_ Ruby happy. And if these first days of break were any indicator, Blake was improving. She wondered how Weiss would fit into this dynamic.

In a moment, however, her wonder would become curiosity, her ears twitching against Yang. The ghost of a sound piqued her attention—a distant suddenness that made her hesitate and listen close. With another ear flick that neither sister noticed, Blake let her senses wander. There was movement…somewhere…and it was moving closer, that much was certain. It was something heavy and steady and seemingly not on foot. She did not know why it had taken her so long to figure it out—perhaps the mood of the moment, yet again—but when she did figure out what the sound was and where it was coming from, her eyes reopened, and she sat up.

Ruby and Yang looked to her, interests raised. Blake turned to the younger, calmed herself, and allowed a sympathetic smile before saying, "Weiss is here."

Suddenly, all the color in Ruby's face drained. This was not the sort of reaction Blake had expected, but Yang snickered audibly. Thousands of millions of thoughts seemed to swarm Ruby's mind, leaving her expression worried and eyes unfocused, but this state would not last long. She looked at the Faunus, now realizing what had been said, and with a low, frightened voice, muttered:

"I gotta fix my hair."

Ruby then vanished with a single, happy rose petal.

* * *

Returning was supposed to be happier than this. All the needless angst, the uncharacteristic worrying—it was sickening. But now the drive was over, and Weiss barely registered the _thunk_ of her cabin door opening. Glaringly, she looked out at where her driver likely was but found only grass and gravel. And then, when a brisk wind from the door chilled the open cabin, Weiss realized there was no more running.

She breathed, closing her eyes. This was a family duty. She was a Schnee. Schnees served Atlas. Atlas before self. Composed and frowning, the heiress gathered the letters.

Summer was far away, winter having turned this once verdant wood into a dried and brown mimicry. The sisters' plot of land had not even been given the courtesy of snow—the trees were bare and the grass was thoroughly dead. And though Weiss tried to suppress that nostalgia which, otherwise, would have broken her resolve, seeing this change and deadness made the disgraceful irony of the situation unavoidable.

"Lady Schnee," came a voice from beside her. She glanced at the valet, who continued, "Shall I take your baggage?"

Weiss shook her head. "No…" She had not intended to sigh as she did, but the breath nevertheless escaped her with a cloud. She would not make an excuse. Her father and his staff already knew of her reservations, she figured, so there was no point in trying to hide them. Her team, however, would need to be hidden. "It's just one bag. I think I can handle it on my own."

The man nodded and stepped away, leaving Weiss to both herself and the biting cold. She shivered. This was no Atlas winter, but cold was cold, and her distaste did not discriminate—though Blake would surely claim otherwise. No, Weiss winced. Neither the cold nor Blake mattered; there was a job to do, and then this would all be over. She recomposed herself for the umpteenth time today and brushed the nonexistent wrinkles from her pants.

Weiss knew she was overreacting, for what circumstance could ever warrant this kind of response? Nevertheless, her hands shook as she moved behind the limousine, opened its trunk, and removed her duffle bag. She had admitted so many times before that she was horrified, but now that fear was gone, at least in her conscious. Despite her hands' unease, her expression remained steady and her gaze was of steel. She hated the fact that she had returned to that same aloofness which had spoiled her first year at Beacon, but she could worry about regret and disgust later. Now she had to run from her fear—no, run _through_ it—and ensure that this was all a simple overreaction.

She gripped the letters tight. At the very least, she hoped she had been wrong.

She shook her head, sighing, before she called out to her driver. "You may leave. I intend to stay the night here." No footsteps followed her. She never looked back when she said, "I will call if I need anything."

It did not take a psychic to know that the driver had not moved from his position. Weiss knew he still stood by his door, an implacable evenness to his lips and distrusting thoughts on his mind. But it would be a lie to say she had not expected this. She shook her head again and looked up at the house in front of her—pristine, off-white, and suspiciously large—with one part dread and one part determination. The driver was just a driver, one face of the same-looking legion her father had hired, so his opinion and gaze did not bother her anymore. The only person whose opinion bothered her was on the other side of that deep red door.

The five steps to that house's porch felt like a thousand by dilation of Weiss' worry yet only two by the fear which begged her to turn back. Her characteristic frost still held upon her expression, but, all the while, the letters in her hand were in danger of being crushed. She had reached the door and could barely believe she was here.

As a means of reassurance, she tried to remember that first, indignant day of summer break. Yang had called a taxi to drive them here, making the already long journey exponentially more painful, what with an exuberant Ruby seated beside the heiress. Then, a headache-worsening hour later, they had arrived _here_. Weiss had expected it to be a pigsty—it was Ruby and Yang's home, after all—and although that was not the case whatsoever, that first night had made even sleep difficult. But now Weiss looked upon that pain favorably—wistfully, even. That was a pain of friendship and personal shortcoming, a petty itch compared to the unsalvageable emptiness of family and home. She wanted it back.

Weiss closed her eyes. She _would_ have it back. All of it. And if not today, then she would get it all back when she could. Otto had defeated her for now; but as he was a warrior, so were his daughters. Even if it took a century, Team RWBY would be reunited. Weiss would make sure of it.

Standing up straight, she steadied herself. Eyes forward, hands relaxed, and breaths now even, Weiss raised a finger to the little, cream-colored, traitorous doorbell. Patience and duty. A shaky hand pressed forward as its owner stared straight ahead. Even if it took a century.

The sound that followed was one of the wind. No chime, no thudding feet. Just the cold.

Weiss gripped her belongings tighter, creasing the letters at last, and closed her eyes. But just as she did so, a _clunk_ ¸ _click_ , and _woosh_ broke the fragile silence. The door was thrown open so suddenly—so violently and with such little regard for damage—that Weiss, with all her nerve and frustration, could not help but step back in alarm. But everything stopped when she reopened her eyes.

Ruby stood in the doorway, looking at her like they had not seen each other in years.

But Weiss was no better. Her throat tightened and her mouth went dry and she stared expressionlessly at the winded and flustered girl before her. Ruby's hair was a halfway mess. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth hung open just enough that Weiss could not scold her for being slack-jawed. However, when the young girl responded to her partner's gaze, tucking an askew bang behind her ear, all reservations dropped from Weiss' mind.

If she had to wait a century, then so be it. Weiss was here now, and she was happy.

Unfortunately, before either girl could do anything—they merely kept each other's gazes for their inability to do much more—a voice rang out from inside the house. "Hey! I heard that!" shouted that ceaselessly irritating voice. "Easy on the door!"

There was no initial reaction from the girls at the entryway—much to Weiss' wry delight. However, after a few awkward seconds, the corner of Ruby's lips twitched. This movement, small and insignificant though it was, gave Weiss just the energy she needed to release a held breath. In turn, that lip twitch became a smile and that exhale became a short, hummed laugh. That was the Ruby Weiss had not expected to see today, and this was the Weiss Ruby had, seemingly, missed. A coiling energy built behind those silver eyes, ready to leap out at any moment and grasp the heiress.

And so Ruby tried.

"Weiss!" she screamed, heedless to her sister or her partner, the squawking birds outside or the driver watching on. And, as she did so, she shot her arms out, reaching for the heiress, and practically leaped forward. However, this could not happen.

Thinking quickly, Weiss cooled her gaze.

"Stop," she commanded.

Ruby landed, stepped back, and folded her hands before herself. She seemed hurt.

For prudence's sake, Weiss needed to appear cold without actually being so—the assistants had already seen her be warm around Ruby, but now, after her father's orders, they expected a change of heart. Therefore, this bark proved easy on the heiress' conscience, being that it was knowingly wrong and competently a lie. However, her partner's reaction—Ruby's frown and de-energized fear—brought back all the regrets Weiss had felt by accepting the letters. None of this would do.

She softened her expression. When Ruby noticed this and grinned at the situation's ease. Weiss assured her with a slight, not entirely false smile, "Not while he's looking."

It was then that Weiss realized she had made a mistake and Ruby's grin widened. Unfortunately, this widening was painfully and clearly insincere. "Oh, hi, Weiss!" the young girl restarted loudly, laughing a bit forcefully. "You sure got here early! Actually, you just woke me up! Yeah! Why don't you come in! Or something! Yang will take care of—"

Weiss stopped smiling. Now her glare was genuine and her command impatient. " _Inside_."

Eyes wide again, Ruby squeaked, "Yes, Weiss."

Neither wasted any time getting indoors. Ruby stepped aside and watched as the girl in white stepped into the house, admiring something about the heiress and waiting for permission to smile. But Weiss had no time for that now. She stepped quickly into the foyer and, without feeding her nostalgia, looked only at the door as she closed it, locked it, and sighed, grateful to be out of the cold and _here_.

"Well, now that he's out of the—"

Weiss could not finish her sentence. Ruby, now without onlookers, resumed her intended action and pounced on the girl in white. " _Weiss_!" she squealed again, her arms wrapping around the hugged girl's front.

In reactive response, Weiss' hands released their carriage, letting the bag and letters fall beside one another. Not only was the hug tighter than expected, it was more present than expected. It was _real_. And genuine. And as Weiss adjusted to the slight strangulation, she calmed, letting go of every worry for just a moment so she could let someone earnestly care for her. Between the giddy noises and the insistent pull of Ruby's hug, Weiss could let her thoughts slow. She had arrived, and now there were no regrets.

Well, that was not entirely true. There was _one_ new regret—but she could fix that right now.

Weiss did not smile—rather, she offered a somehow appreciative frown—as she spun around in her partner's arms. Now Ruby's excited smile was before her, not six inches away. It was naïve, unsuspecting, and so piteously ignorant that Weiss could not help but mimic it. The young girl's cheer was usually infectious to some degree, but now, with an absence of two days between them, that cheer was positively overwhelming.

"Welcome back, Weiss," Ruby said softly. Her eyes shone with a smile that matched her lips' own. Regardless of the commands, or of the impending news, she was happy. And this transfixed the heiress. In Weiss' doubts, she had overlooked the calming effect of her partner's eyes. They had occupied a great many of Weiss' dreams since last summer, either as full moons against a dark sky or as simple manifestations of Ruby's presence, and now they were before the heiress. They somehow grinned even wider. "I missed you."

Perhaps instinctually, Weiss then found herself moving to reciprocate. She had not intended to hug Ruby so immediately, wanting instead to hold off until her mind was fully ready, but now her arms wrapped almost desperately around the girl. Weiss was searching for strength, for warmth. Consciously, she moved a hand up Ruby's spine, placing it on her neck and bringing their heads to rest on each other's shoulders.

It was a desperate move, yes, and just as much an overreaction as her fear was, but Weiss did not care. She just wanted to hug her girlfriend. It made everything seem normal.

The two stood like that for a minute, one silently savoring her partner's existence while the other squealed and giggled intermittently, trying to squeeze the life out of Weiss. But soon the noises would fade and Ruby's excitement would dim, and as Weiss continued to hold on for just a moment longer—lost in this closeness she was allowed to enjoy—Ruby spoke.

"Uh…Weiss? You know, you can let go now."

The heiress' eyes shot open. Clearing her throat, she uncurled her arms and stepped back, leaving Ruby to stare at her from a couple feet away. Weiss blinked and then tried to appear like nothing had happened at all. "Oh," she said at last. "I'm…I'm sorry."

A raised, concerned brow met her fluster. But this questioning gaze only lasted for a moment before Ruby's concern became mischief. "Nah," she grinned. "Just kidding. Welcome home!" She launched into another hug, one which, again, caught the heiress off guard.

It was odd, this lack of judgment— _still_ odd, rather, because it was nothing unusual in the case of Ruby. Had Weiss attempted to hug Yang or Blake—which, God help her, she never would—there would indeed have been a limit. Likewise, any attention within her own family past the level of "courteous formality" would have been plainly uncharacteristic. And foreboding, too, all things considered. With Ruby, however, there was no such limit. The girl simply liked hugs, so it was fortunate for Weiss, a girl who considered herself self-sufficient yet occasionally needing of a hug, to be dating her. Therefore, Weiss took the opportunity she was given and squeezed back, letting all that troublesome self-sufficiency melt away for just a rejuvenating moment.

Unfortunately, a moment was only a moment. It could never last forever.

"You two are cute, you know that?"

Weiss' eyes shot open and turned to the source of the noise. Yang was leaning against the living room's doorframe, lazily dressed in her pajamas and sporting a smirk that was equal parts mocking and welcoming.

"I mean, in a disgusting, if-you-hug-Ruby-for-one-more-second-I'm-going-to-assume-something-else-is-up-and-then-I'm-gonna-punch-you-in-the-face sort of way." Her lilac eyes gleamed mockingly. "But I don't mean I'll _actually_ punch you, Weiss. It's more like an empty threat that—just between you and me—you should _probably_ take seriously."

"Hello to you, too, Yang."

"Guten Tag, mein kleine Dummkopf."

Perhaps due to awkwardness, perhaps due to appropriateness—which, to the young girl's credit, was a surprising opposite to her characteristic awkwardness—Ruby pulled away. Her raised brow returned, but she seemed entirely unconcerned, asking, "Weiss, what does that mean?"

The heiress looked at her dryly. "It means, 'I took one year of a foreign language class, and that makes me bilingual.'" Yang rolled her eyes.

"Wait," Ruby said. "So does that mean _you_ took a year of foreign language? Or did Yang? Or…Now I'm confused."

Well, perhaps her disengagement from the hug was merely awkward. How very—albeit comfortingly—expected. Nevertheless, Weiss still had a headache despite the aspirin taken, and so she held her temple accordingly. "How…did you even get that confused? Now _I'm_ confused."

Yang, meanwhile, scratched her head. "Yeah, that's…umm…Yeah, I'm gonna have to side with Weiss on that one and—"

"Smartest thing you've ever done, to be honest."

Weiss was quickly given a look that seemed to ask, " _Really_?" but it was ignored. Instead, blue eyes searched for the fourth member of her team. Although it was irritatingly good to see Yang again, and although Weiss could be content to relax beside Ruby while the headache subsided, Yang would only worsen that headache without someone to keep her in check. Thankfully, her teasing focus was moved soon behind her by a faint breath and step.

For some reason, Ruby mirrored her partner's position. She stood beside Weiss with a prepared and composed smile, facing Yang just as expectantly, unwittingly nudging the duffle bag and a letter, and—to Weiss' start—intertwining their fingers. Of course, the girl was clearly delighted by this admittedly rare chance to be affectionate, but she was also saving face—preparing herself to be seen in a light she desired. She did not know how well that boded.

With a warm welcome from Yang, Blake entered the room. As per usual, the girl in black did not seem surprised by anything—not the arrival or the hand-holding, nor the heiress' post-business attire or single bag of luggage. Her eyes were still and focused. Despite this, she gave a small smile and meant it sincerely.

This smile turned to Yang for a moment, the blonde quipping, "Took you long enough," before returning back to Weiss. Somehow, that girl in black had seen every secret Weiss had brought with her. Whether she knew what the secrets meant was a separate matter, but it was clear that Blake knew something was amiss.

Weiss returned her smile with a nod. "Blake."

* * *

"Weiss," Blake responded.

"I take it you kept these two busy. You know as much as I do that if you don't put a carrot in front of them, they'd never move anywhere."

"To be honest, I think they've been keeping _me_ busy." It was then that Ruby tried to cue something from the Faunus. Unfortunately, she was not being very subtle about it, her eyes wide and eyebrows laughably high. Nevertheless, Blake continued, looking pointedly at her leader. "Ruby took me Christmas shopping yesterday."

A slight grimace crossed Weiss' face. Ruby and Yang laughed.

"Yup!" the young girl chirped. "Me and Blake got that thing you and me were…talking…about." Her good mood paused. "Hey, why are you two staring at me like that?"

Yang excluded, Ruby's audience was giving her an impatient look. Admittedly, Blake's low disappointment was probably undeserved, but it was nothing compared to Weiss' palpable disappointment. Ruby looked between the unamused girls, growing more and more desperate with each move of her head, but it was not until her sister mouthed the word "Grammar" that she knew what was going on.

With one hand, she squeezed Weiss' own, and, with the other, she rubbed the back of her neck. "I…um…Sorry?"

Blake shook her head and let the matter go. Weiss, however, continued to stare. The Faunus' interest in Ruby's speech was…well, for one, she did want to see the girl become a better leader than those of the corrupted White Fang—those leaders were, first and foremost, fantastic orators and could change a person's mind _completely_ , whereas that should be impossible. Ruby was a good person, had a better moral compass, and Weiss had confided in Blake an awareness of that. So, it is to say that while Weiss' impatience with Ruby's grammar was equally as caring as it was pedagogical, Blake's was just…friendly.

"I have a feeling she's not gonna forgive you." Blake heard her partner approaching as she spoke, so when an arm came to rest upon the Faunus' shoulders, it came as no surprise.

"And your feeling would be correct," Weiss lied, keeping Ruby's gaze.

However, when Ruby's eyes cast downwards, Weiss' frown pointed elsewhere and her fingers squeezed back, giving her partner the truth she needed and giving the care she had long since desired. Yang did not oppose this, actually giving a thankful smile to the heiress, but her apprehension about this relationship had, historically, been twofold: she neither wanted to lose Ruby forever, letting her last shred of normal family life slip into someone else' hands, nor did she want Weiss to hurt Ruby. But now neither of those worries seemed to matter. With a single affectionate gesture, Weiss had turned Ruby's mood from doubtful to ecstatic. Moreover, the young girl now gave her sister a told-you-so smirk.

"Okay, whatever. I'm glad you two can see each other, and I'm also glad you're giving me an excuse to throw up," Yang said, a joke to her words but business to her tone. "But, if you wouldn't mind, _maybe_ we could stop being so awkward and move out of the foyer. Just maybe." Blake was the only one to smirk at this, the other two looking annoyed as their moment was, assumingly, ruined. But Yang simply sighed. "Weiss, if you want, I could move your bag into Ruby's room."

Blake watched as all positive emotions cascaded from Weiss' expression. In an instant, the heiress was sober. "I…" she started but stopped. She looked to Ruby, then to Blake, then to Ruby again, and then to Yang. "I…If you wouldn't mind, I'd actually like to have Blake's old room."

Now it was Ruby's turn to frown. She, however, did not seem nearly as distressed as her partner, whose eyes had shut unnoticeably while another grimace pulled at her. Both girls were in now pain but for a reason Blake could not fathom.

Yang did not seem to care, though. With a shrug, she left Blake's shoulders and approached the reunited couple. But when she moved within a few feet's distance, Weiss' eyes opened.

"Wait."

The blonde stopped, and her team followed her questioning gaze.

Weiss sighed, shook her head, and glanced again at her assembled teammates. "Actually," she began, uncharacteristically slow, "there's…something I need to speak with you about. All of you."

It was odd how Weiss, the most appearance-conscious person Blake knew, carried only one bag and chose a khaki pant and white button-up rather than her usual dress. Of course, it had been clear that _something_ was amiss, but now Blake could see it. The single bag, the aversive sleeping arrangements, the atypical awkwardness—Weiss was getting ready to run.

But Yang, regardless of how perceptive she might have been to Ruby and Blake, did not see this. "All right, shoot." Blake's eyes narrowed, watching the heiress carefully.

"Let's move out of the foyer, first," Weiss sidetracked. "This isn't…exactly…" She glanced over at Ruby, who was squeezing her fingers and looking fretfully into equally fretful blues. "…easy for me. And it's not exactly a short story."

"Weiss, what's up with—"

"We'll move to the living room," Blake interrupted. Yang looked at her, asking for answers, and Blake only replied with, "She's had a long day. It would be best if we all took a moment." With a nod, Yang seemed to understand the underlying, Ruby-avoidant message.

"Thank you," breathed Weiss.

Yang moved ahead to fulfill her promise, taking Weiss' bag and accepting the wave of dismissal the girl in white gave regarding a trio of envelopes. Weiss picked those up, detaching from the still-sad Ruby, and momentarily stressed over a wrinkle in one of them. Meanwhile, as Yang moved to port Weiss' luggage, Ruby merely watched her partner, silent and thinking.

This was obviously not how today had been planned for her. Certainly, the hug cheered Ruby up, and seeing Weiss again made her happier than any moment prior in this winter break, but the shift in conversation and mood had upset her. She must have known something was wrong, and even if she did not know Weiss meant to run, she still wanted to help out however possible. Unfortunately, Ruby could only offer a forced smile, which her partner ignored so to tend to her envelopes. Weiss moved past Ruby with nothing more than a troubled glance.

And this hurt Blake. The Faunus was not angry at the heiress—truthfully, she was concerned—but her present unawareness was nevertheless inexcusable. Placing a hand on Ruby's back, Blake caught her leader's attention. "Let's hear her out," she offered. "You know how Weiss gets when she's stressed—everything's a big deal."

"Yeah…"

"And, in any event, I have a feeling you'll get a chance to catch up with her after. Just let her get this off her mind, and then you can take care of her."

Ruby seemed to consider this for a second. She looked at the ground, then to her partner, who disappeared around the living room's corner, and then to Blake. It was at this point that a slight but genuine smile was shown. "Yeah," the young girl accepted. "Okay. That sounds good. But you and Yang'll be there, too, in case Weiss isn't…being Weiss?"

"Of course," Blake assured.

The smile stayed. "Okay. Then let's go."

The two of red and black followed Weiss into the living room. It was not a particularly spacious or ornate place, though it needed not be. It had been used only a handful of times last summer, and of those times, a majority was due to team meetings. But now it was Weiss' turn to call a meeting. She lacked the same cheer that Ruby usually had when doing this—she seemed to slouch despite her perfect posture, and her eyes lingered almost nervously on the letters in her lap. Fortunately, Ruby was not affected by this, either by ignorance or choice, and so moved to sit beside Weiss on the heiress' chosen loveseat.

That choice was not unintentional, Blake thought as she, herself, chose a chair opposite the younger partnership. Weiss was moving deliberately yet, surprisingly, very tellingly, too. She was never one to broadcast her feelings, excepting disapproval, but now she fidgeted and sighed. Of course, Blake would not put it past Weiss to fidget and sigh on purpose; she was, after all, trained to know better. But it seemed that if these ticks were purposeful, Blake was the only person who noticed them. Ruby was grinning and unaware—simply happy that Weiss was back.

But perhaps Ruby's ignorance was for the best. As petty as she could be, Weiss would never admit fear without a plan. Something else was going on.

The heiress cleared her throat. "Well," she said, "I suppose there's no easy way to say this—"

"Wait!" Grabbing Weiss' hand, Ruby interrupted. "Yang's not here yet. Let's wait until we're all together before you make your announcement."

Weiss glanced at the Faunus, just long enough to let Blake know that, yes, her suspicions were correct. "Right," the girl in white conceded. She looked back to Ruby, not bothering to return the smile given. "So, how have you been?"

"Great!" chirped Ruby. "I actually woke up early today, _and_ I'm not tired! Yang, Blake, and I were playing _Fight Streeter_ before you got here, so that was a lot of fun. You should've seen how mad Yang was getting! Oh! And before that, we had pizza for breakfast." A proud smirk drew up to her ear. She boasted, "And it wasn't even the healthy kind."

Weiss tried to smirk back, but this only lasted for a moment. The heiress' sense of humor, in Blake's experience, usually included her own jokes, anything that saw someone being degraded, and, most recently, the occasional Ruby-ism. However, now was not one of those times where Ruby's Rubyness was funny to her.

Moreover, the disingenuity of her smirk was obvious—even to Ruby.

"Weiss?" asked the young girl. "Is something wrong?"

Weiss' posture corrected, her face composing in an instant. "No. Just the headache."

It took but one hesitant second for her partner to respond. "All right. If you say so."

"If she says what?"

Blake looked to the far wall's door and hallway there beyond, finding Yang, arms free of Weiss' belongings. The blonde made her way across the room as though nothing were wrong—likely for Ruby's sake more than anyone else's—and came to stop beside the coffee table, crossing her arms comfortably.

Weiss was momentarily stunned by the interruption. But she shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and then said, "Yang, take a seat. I'd rather none of you miss what I have to say."

"Ooh, sounds like something important."

Yang sat down in the chair beside Blake. Ruby seemed placated and ready to listen. And Blake…Well, there was still that hunch that Weiss intended to run. It seemed the most likely possibility, what with this sort of personal melodrama having risen up within Blake, herself, once before, during the team's first semester at Beacon, and as well within Yang last summer. However, it seemed time for the speech and its resultant answers to commence. The three audience members now waited.

The letters Weiss carried came into view. She cleared her throat.

"As you know, I have been in Atlas these past couple days. In that time, I was able to see my family again and catch up with them accordingly. Unfortunately…" She paused, looking at the letters. "Unfortunately, our reunion was revealed to be little more than an employee review. I won't bore you with the extra-personal details, but the end result was a sense of satisfaction on the part of my father. That's why he's given me these." She raised the envelopes just enough to draw attention to them.

"He has written each of you a letter, though I doubt any of them are heavily personalized. He…" Weiss stopped. "He would like to meet you. All of you."

* * *

With that explanation, the room, and as well its occupants, seemed to stand still. On all the girls' parts, eyes widened; however, each member of the team behaved differently. Weiss braced herself, just as she had done all morning, her gut somersaulting with fury and remorse now that the words had escaped. Ruby, meanwhile, widened her eyes in an unsurprising and completely ignorant look of excitement. Yang looked at the heiress as though this revelation had been a laughable anticlimax.

But Blake looked on with evident dread. She, of all people, would understand why a meeting with Otto Schnee was worth fearing. This was not to be some meet-and-greet social call—Weiss had truthfully been far from satisfactory in her father's eyes. Therefore, between the ulterior motives that Weiss knew and the sharkish reputation that Blake knew, the sisters' ignorance seemed more unfortunate than annoying.

"In these letters," Weiss continued to explain, "are plans—"

"Ooh! Lemme see!"

Suddenly, Weiss felt an envelope slip from her grasp. When she saw Ruby, the somersaulting gut froze, shriveled, and died. Words failed the girl in white as she watched her partner rip at her letter, breaking the wax seal and tearing the paper.

"Oh, cool!" The young girl took the paper within, now unfolded, and showed it to Blake and Yang. "I guess I'm _Miss Rose_ now." She snickered.

"Well, are you gonna read it?"

Weiss shot Yang a furious look. However, because this fury had had no pretext—at least in the eyes of the sisters—Yang only returned this response with confusion.

" _Miss Rose_ ," emphasized Ruby. Weiss' glare lingered on the blonde only until she realized that Ruby was _actually_ going to follow the suggestion. This turned the heiress' glare on her, even though it went unnoticed. "Under regular circumstances, we would have already met. My name is Otto, and I am Weiss' father. I have heard both little and so much about you."

Ruby turned to her partner with a smile, ignoring the look she was being given. "Aw, Weiss. Did you write home about me? I know your assistants do, but you? That is so cool!"

It was then that Blake spoke up, voice tense. "Keep reading," she all but commanded.

This earned Yang's concern. The Faunus presently gripped the arms of her chair and stared intently at both Ruby and Weiss, something the former thought strange. However, Ruby apparently did not think Blake was being strange enough to halt the reading. Upon realizing this, Weiss sat back and stared at the coffee table. It was actually happening. Ruby was walking merrily into an obvious trap.

"You have my thanks for being such a quick friend to her— _Aww_ —after she left our home. At the time, Weiss set out in search of a rigor that Atlas Academy could not offer, and, to my knowledge, she found it at Beacon Academy. After conferring with her about the accomplishments of you and your team, I find it hard to think of a better environment to suit her personal growth.

"For being a friend of hers—and therefore a friend of the Schnees—I would be honored to welcome you and Team RWBY into our home for…" She paused. "Christmas."

"Whoa, what?"

Blake had not responded much to Yang's concern, no matter how diligent it had been. But now both girls in that partnership looked to Weiss bewilderedly. The heiress hardly reacted when Yang leaned across the table and snatched the other two envelopes.

"Dude, you can _not_ be serious." Yang pulled at the letter similarly to how her sister had, making short work of the divide between her and "Miss Xiao Long." She mumbled the letter's opening, finding that the message was largely the same, before she stopped at the word "Christmas." "Well," she exhaled excitedly. "Ain't that a thing."

Weiss watched helplessly as Blake peeled the seal off her own letter, moving gingerly so as not to upset the poison she seemingly expected. Yang continued from where her sister left off.

"…into our home for Christmas and…the Schnee Gala," she said, smiling and looking around the room. "Attached are the instructions as to what you may expect upon your arrival, pending your acceptance. Weiss is aware of the necessary details and will answer your questions, should you have any. For the sake of prudence, however, be warned that it is not only you three who have been invited. The Schnee Gala's invitees number in the thousands, so understand before accepting or declining that you will be in attendance with diplomats, officers, and executives. Nevertheless, as guests of my daughter and the state of Atlas, you will receive privileges that others will not."

Yang peered up at Weiss. "So, that's what you were all worked up about? A party? Not some son you never knew you had or a family who disapproves of your new, swashbuckling life?"

Weiss could not respond. She felt small here. Yang thought this trap would turn out to be nothing more than a holiday get-together, when in reality it would be an intersocial death march. Of course, Yang had always been a blathering idiot, but this was a completely new level of stupidity for her. "I'm all worked up because I don't want you to attend." Weiss, for seemingly the first time, had to play the role of her team's caretaker. As annoying as her teammates were, they were, at least at this moment, her friends. "Any of you," she continued with a frail attempt at firmness, her voice cracking. "This is a bad idea, and he's only leading you into a trap."

Her eyes closed. She was trying to stop her friends from going, not selling them on the occasion like she was supposed to. That would only get her pulled from Beacon. Despite her frown, though, she could not feel remorse.

"I mean, you say that," Yang joked, "but I really think you mean, 'I don't want you in my house because it's _my_ house.' What? Are you ashamed of us or something?"

If only she knew. "No," responded the heiress honestly. "In fact, I think he would be impressed by you three. But that's the thing, Yang. Although he probably _does_ want to meet you, that's not his goal. He's not interested in you." In truth, Weiss could not fathom what her father's goal was—she had the feeling it had to do with her continued stay at Beacon, but she had been wrong about him before. Nevertheless, she stopped herself here. Speculating, especially before present company, would not do anyone good.

Unfortunately, Yang seemed to think this back-and-forth was some sort of competition, judging by the disbelieving way she crossed her legs and arched her brows. "So, what _is_ his goal, then? Because so far, all you're telling us is that your dad wants us to visit, but you don't want us to go…because he doesn't want us to go. I'm sorry, but that's confusing."

Weiss sighed. "Okay. Let me say this again—"

"I say we put it to a vote!"

Had it been some other day, this cut-off would have been merely annoying. Now, however, it was dire. Weiss glared at the blonde—a tired gesture by this point, devoid of any circumstance, but it needed to work. " _Seriously_. Let me finish."

Miraculously, this _did_ work. Yang looked over to her partner, finding the Faunus staring blankly at Weiss. Blake was anxious—that much was certain—and Weiss could guess that it had something to do with those ears atop her head, rigid and alert. Yang then turned to find her sister, whom Weiss found as well, both out of instinct and, due to her girlfriend's uncharacteristic silence, concern.

Ruby seemed lost in thought, deaf to the world around her. Her eyes were trained on her lap, her ears seemed tuned out of the conversation, and a frown had taken her usual cheer captive. Something was very wrong.

Nevertheless, Weiss turned back to Yang. She had to explain to the team what her father wanted, why she did not want them to attend the gala, and do so in a way that would not push Ruby further into whatever she was going through. It felt as though Weiss' task had increased in difficulty for the fiftieth time now.

"As I was saying," she breathed. "On the second night of my being home, my father expressed an interest in meeting all of you. His interest, of course, came with these letters, so I can't tell you that his intentions are genuine. But he did ask for you to come, and I know that part was genuine. He thinks that because we—Team RWBY—have worked well together, these invitations will be seen as his way of showing gratitude. He'll sincerely want to thank you for the past year and a half, and I imagine he'll want to leave a good impression. Expect accommodations."

Yang's eyes seemed to light up at this.

"That being said, _do not_ , at any point, think that my father is looking out for _any_ of your individual interests. He's a businessman by trade and a soldier by rearing—and, unfortunately, he has a mind geared towards both. You three will be guests of ours, and he will definitely take care of you, but do not think that because you're his guests you will be safe. My father's no villain, and he's not the type of person Yang seems to think he is, but understand that as long as you are on his island, he is your enemy. Him and," Winter, "everyone else you meet."

Still being the only one willing to speak, Yang shook her head bemusedly. "So, what? Your dad's our enemy, but he's gonna take care of us? How aren't we safe again?"

"I…haven't the faintest," Weiss admitted lowly. "I just have a bad feeling."

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything, huh?"

Suddenly, the immobile Blake moved, catching Weiss' gaze with a squint of her own. "What aren't you telling us?"

"A lot, Blake. But, right now, I don't know what's relevant and what's not."

"I don't care what's relevant. Start with the party."

The heiress nodded and took a moment to gather her thoughts. At last, she explained, "My father wants us to attend the Schnee Gala—a three-day-long…festival, for lack of a better term, attended only by Remnant's greatest. For some reason, my father thinks you three would do well there."

"And what's the gala like?" Yang asked.

"Vain. Ostentatious. Garish. But it's what the attendees want. Over the course of three days, attendees are encouraged to socialize and network with each other, but mostly they try to get in my or my father's good graces. It's a way for people to get ahead in the world and for others to get started. The letters claimed that thousands would be in attendance, and while that is technically true, you should expect only hundreds on the first and third nights. The second holds our most public-facing event. The first night will be a dinner, the second will be some form of performance, and the third will be the Atlas Ball."

It was then that Ruby moved. Unlike Blake, who continued to pick apart every word that left the heiress' mouth, the young girl showed signs of hope. Beneath that hope, though, was something that had been hurt.

"Weiss?" she asked. "That actually sounds really cool. But, um, what about…"

She looked down at her letter, and her hope began to fade.

"But what about Christmas, Weiss?" she asked, her eyes falling on Weiss' own, her hurt coming to the painful forefront. "I thought we were gonna go pick out a tree together. I thought we were gonna wrap presents and watch movies and bake cookies. I thought we were gonna be here…"

"Aw, chin up, Ruby!" Yang, excited as ever, smiled at her sister. "What's the difference between doing that here and doing that at Weiss' place? It'd still be Christmas, and we'd all still be together!"

Nearly in tandem, Ruby and Weiss dropped their gazes. On the former's part, now-obvious upset seemed to stay her response. On the latter's, Weiss could not understand why she had missed this in the first place. While she had been panicking over whether or not this gala would destroy her team, Ruby had been getting her hopes up for a perfect Christmas. Weiss' chest tightened as she let out a long, heavy breath. She had been right all along about these letters tearing her team apart, but she had never imagined Ruby would be the first victim. Weiss closed her eyes.

As Yang's smile fell and Ruby's silence grew, the entire team followed after her until Blake chose to break from her own fear. The Faunus breathed audibly through her nose, looked to her partner, then to Ruby, and then her eyes focused tiredly on Weiss.

"Okay. So, your father wants us to attend his party. I have…more than a few doubts about this, especially when your family, and also the other attendees, were the ones who funded Menagerie. Weiss, I know I won't feel comfortable there, but I need to stay with Yang and Ruby. Whatever they choose to do, I'll do that, too. But I want you to do something for me first."

Wordlessly, the heiress looked up at the Faunus.

"Convince me that we will _all_ be safe."

Chewing on the inside of her upper lip, Weiss tried to answer but just continued to bite.

How would she convince Blake? How _could_ she convince Blake? This girl had been the White Fang's up-and-coming lieutenant once upon a time, and that tutelage meant that she knew things—shameful things that Weiss had taken years to learn as well. A simple "I'll make sure of it" would be out of the question, for the heiress had already overlooked an entire holiday, and this could not have been an inspiring measure of competence. Moreover, Blake held great stock in her teammates, Weiss included, and to see them go to Kaiser Island would strip them from her protective grasp. It was the island of Schnees to her, the island where Faunus were not welcome.

But there was also the variable of Otto. As one might expect, the man was an opportunistic liar—at his level of prowess, none could claim to have had a pure and clean life—yet his word _was_ trustworthy, and Blake had a handwritten promise from him. Weiss could not account for Winter or the party's guests, but Blake would be safe from her greatest fear on that island.

"You _will_ be safe, Blake, because my father wants you to be safe," Weiss said at last, finding a confidence that, honestly, surprised her. "The letter says you're a guest of his. And if it says you're a guest, then you _are_ a guest. We Schnees would be remiss to turn our backs on thousands of years of heritage, and even if we were to do so, we wouldn't do it to get petty revenge on someone who isn't even our enemy anymore."

Amber eyes widened, looked to the side, then focused back on Weiss. Blake had a rebuttal—Winter.

"Ah!" the heiress interrupted. This earned a glower from the Faunus and an unenthused look from the blonde. "You are _our_ guests. Nothing will happen to you or Yang or Ruby. You have my word."

The two of black and white continued their visual struggle. Winter would not be a problem, Weiss was trying to communicate, and neither would the guests. Blake visibly knew there would be pain, but her weakening doubt showed an acceptance that there would not be strife—at least, not outright. A squint and a sigh later, Blake relented. "All right," she accepted. "What's the plan?"

"Wait. So, you're on board?" asked Yang delightedly.

Blake forced a smile. "Only if you and Ruby are."

As Yang's need to rejoice and plan came to a talkative head, Weiss turned her attention to the most important person in the room.

Ruby's eyes were cast low, her legs having curled up beneath her and her hands still gripping softly onto Otto's letter. Weiss had not been paying attention.

The heiress turned to face her, moving back in the seat somewhat to break her needlessly stiff posture, and brought her legs up, too. Hopefully, this would help reach the thinking girl. "Ruby?" she asked quietly. A hand drifted up towards the questioned, deferring from the originally intended cheek to rest on the young girl's shoulder hopefully. "It's…" It was not going to be okay. "What's on your mind?"

A flash of anger crossed the young girl's expression, forcing Ruby to close her eyes and scrunch her brow, but this quickly faded for tiredness. "I thought we were going to have Christmas here, Weiss," her voice was adamant and hurt, but Weiss could tell she was trying to fight off her mood. "I thought we were going to pick out a tree, stay at home, and just have fun. I thought we were going to have a fun Christmas together."

"We can still do that—"

"Then why were you so afraid when you told us?"

This had, evidently, been said louder than Ruby would have liked. Blake and Yang halted their conversation to look on in concern. Ruby relaxed her expression.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I just…Having you here for Christmas really meant something to me, you know? Something special. I know I'm probably overreacting, but I just feel like…like it isn't going to be special. Like you're not gonna have time for us."

Weiss nodded. "That's why I was afraid to tell you," she explained honestly. "I really can't guarantee my involvement in team activities. I can guarantee that you'll be safe and that you'll enjoy yourself—"

"But I won't without you!"

After waiting a beat to stop her instinctual argument, Weiss dropped her hand from Ruby's shoulder. "Perhaps not. I'm…sorry, Ruby. I'm truly sorry. I want you to have the best Christmas you can, even with these circumstances…so that's why I'm asking you to come."

She winced at her own words. As truthful as they were, they were equally foolish. She was leading her team into a trap. "I'm unable to refuse this party, Ruby—I knew it was coming, and I thought I could escape it to spend Christmas here, but I thought wrong. Fortunately, you have the choice that I do not. Either you can spend Christmas here and have no interaction with me or you can spend Christmas at my house and have _some_ interaction with me. I can't promise a lot of time, but I can promise that I will try and make time."

Ruby was still not swayed one way or the other. However, her argumentative resolve was wavering—her shoulders were slumped and her eyes took on that distant, undecided look of her thinking state. Yang and Blake, meanwhile, looked on, their hands wrapped calmingly around each other's while lilac eyes told the heiress not to mess up.

Weiss continued, "If you accept…" But then she hesitated, knowing that what she was about to say would be subject to change. "If you accept, then we can pick out a tree—just like you wanted. We can wrap your presents, we can watch a few movies, we can…" At this, she ran out of ideas.

"We can make cookies?" Ruby thankfully finished, silver eyes looking up from her downward expression.

"Sure." A slight smile warmed Weiss' cheeks. "And we can use my family's kitchen—they'll be the best cookies you've ever had, and you have my word." That may well have been another lie, but Weiss most assuredly believed this one. Although she worried for her teammates and for the trouble her family would cause them, she did still cling to Ruby's idea of a perfect holiday. They would take a few weeks off from school, spend some time together, and see to it that each other's happiness remained their top priorities.

Truth be told, Weiss did not look forward to juggling protection and attendance with equal measures, but the spark of hope that had just reignited in Ruby's eyes was more than enough motivation to make that juggling a reality. "I'd like you to attend the ball with me, Ruby," she said, finding this appeasement to sound more…promising than she had expected. "At the very least, I need a friend beside me. At the most, I'd like to have _you_ beside me."

A shaky, contemplative breath foretold of Ruby's change of heart. Her eyes did not water but instead shone—brilliant and rejuvenated and Ruby once more. Somehow, the letter had saved her Christmas. "Sounds like a plan, Weiss!" she positively chirped, changed in an instant. "I'd love to go to the ball with you!"

Her letter was released for the air to catch, her hands flying instead to hug a startled yet unsurprised Weiss. The gesture was immediately reciprocated, and, for the first time in what felt like months, Weiss breathed easy.

"You know what's funny, Blake?" Yang asked with a weary chuckle, loud enough for Ruby and Weiss to hear. "My sister can throw one of the most difficult, nonsense tantrums in the world, but if you so much as _mention_ a ball or a crystal shoe or a pumpkin—and, hey, it doesn't even need to be a carriage—that girl will go from totally unreasonable to 'Oh my God! _Are you proposing to me_?' like _that_." She snapped her fingers, emphasizing her point.

"That joke was a bit on the long side, don't you think?"

"What's the joke? What I said or _your face_?"

Blake shook her head in mild exasperation.

However, Weiss could not care for their exchange. She, of course, cared about their safety and the team's overall integrity, but her focus now rested in Ruby's arms. Another swell of confidence rose in the heiress' chest with the knowledge that Ruby was no longer afraid. Maybe everything _would_ be okay. Maybe they would have a semi-normal Christmas by Ruby's standards. Maybe Weiss would not have to fear her father after all. Maybe.

The hands on the back of her shirt let go and the head on her shoulder pulled back. A new light in Ruby's eyes calmed the girl in white, making Weiss' invitation and headache tolerable. It did not fix everything, but it, with the cooperation of that resurgent confidence, gave Weiss cause to smile. Never mind the expectations that would be upon her and the looks she would receive by dancing with Ruby—if, in fact, that ever did happen. The team was happy now, and it was all Weiss' doing. She could take solace in that fact.

"Sooo, when do we go?"

Weiss blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"I said, when do we go to Atlas?" Ruby asked again. "It's a Christmas party, right? We only have about a week till then!"

Perhaps Weiss had swayed her a little too well. "Well," the heiress tried. Unfortunately, this was yet another trouble spot in her invitation, so proper words were hard to come by.

"What's wrong, Weiss?" teased Yang. "Didn't think this party through?"

The blonde was sent a withering look. "I didn't plan this party _at all_. My father did. More to that point, the reason I'm hesitating is because he _also_ decided when we'll have to leave. If you want to attend, that is."

It was then that Team RWBY looked to her, both questioning and catching on to what she meant.

Weiss sighed. "If you want to attend, we'll need to leave tomorrow."

They stared at her. Their expressions were, at first unreadable, and this only changed with Ruby, whose eyes still burned with excitement. Blake and Yang, however, continued to consider. Blake, for her part, did not seem as unwilling as she had been before. This is not to say that she was willing, either, but the look she gave Weiss was fortunately mild. Yang's expression, however, soured—in the sort of way that showed evident disagreement but no intention to fight.

"Tomorrow?" she asked.

" _Early_ tomorrow."

"How early are we talking?"

Weiss paused. Not even she liked the answer to that question.

"Our flight leaves at seven, which means—"

"Please don't say—"

"—we need to be out the door by five."

"—it. _Great_."

To Weiss, it felt as though an earthquake had shaken the room. Everyone was moved to silence, looking at her as though she were crazy. In some respects, they were justified. But Weiss expected their looks. She, herself, had been opposed to the idea when her father booked her early return flight, not only because it was uncomfortable but because it meant less time spent with RWBY should her teammates not come with. Unfortunately, all the disapproval in the world would do nothing to change tomorrow's flight.

And Yang understood this. "…Do you kiss my sister with that mouth?" she asked, weary already. "What in the world is _wrong_ with you?"

"Weiss," added Blake, "that's not normal. We needed an advance notice."

"Same, honestly." Shaking her head, Weiss tried to appeal to the older partnership's sense of despair. "I was informed about this at the same time as I was informed about your invitations—which was yesterday evening. I hardly knew whether or not I wanted you to come last night, much less how to convince you."

"Is your father playing some kind—"

"Well, if it's what we gotta do, then it's what we gotta do!" Weiss turned to find her partner, whose cheer was almost impressive. Ruby smiled reassuringly at Weiss' questioning look. "I mean, yeah, it's short notice, and we probably have to rush around today if we want to make the flight, but, _c'mon_ , it'll be fun! Yang, you always said you wanted to travel!"

"Yeah, but—"

"Yeah, but none of us have passports," the Faunus interrupted. She looked to Weiss, concern reemerging. "And I'm not even sure I'm allowed in Atlas."

Unfortunately, Weiss' father had been thorough. "Actually," the heiress sighed, "you _are_ allowed in Atlas. You're a guest of the state. And all of you _do_ have passports. They're in my bag."

"Weiss, that's…illegal."

"Agreed."

"And what about the ball?" Yang asked. "I'm not sure our winter formal dresses are gonna be enough."

"You have the team's funds. Buy you and Blake two dresses and something _respectable_ each, and I'll take care of Ruby."

"Oh! What about the presents?"

"My assistants will ship them, Ruby."

"I mean, sure, if you actually _have_ all your presents. I need to make a few calls."

"You'll have time for that today."

"And Weiss? You and me might wanna go and talk to the guy about Yang's present."

"Momentarily."

"How sure are you that we have passports?"

"I packed them myself."

"Wait. No!" Yang groaned. "I just bought groceries yesterday."

Fielding rapid-fire questions was not new to the girl in white—in fact, she somewhat enjoyed it—but Yang's final concern threw her off balance. Perhaps this was due to the concern's nature, or perhaps Weiss was simply coming to terms with the oddness of her team's acceptance, but her mind suddenly blanked. "I, uh," she tried. "I don't know what to tell you about that."

Yang sunk into her chair. "It's one thing to waste your money. It's another thing to waste food."

"Maybe we could try and eat some of it!" came Ruby's unhelpful suggestion, which was met with an equally unhelpful "Blargh."

Frankly, Weiss had to agree. Blargh indeed.

The team sat in relative silence, each planning their next moves with the exception of Weiss, who closed her eyes and breathed out until her lungs felt empty. Although she believed the coming gala to be an overly extravagant trap for her team, she was willingly leading them into it and making it easy for them to accept. The entire situation was ridiculous. But, somehow, she felt relieved in spite of her throbbing headache. The concerns were minimal, the information was conveyed, and Ruby was properly appeased. Considering this, Weiss could not ask for better.

She felt the loveseat shift, Ruby moving so that their shoulders began to touch. She sighed as well, relaxing in a way not dissimilar to how Weiss was—to how Weiss had not realized she was. Their heads leaned back, their arms crossed, and they sighed. However, Ruby's happiness contrasted Weiss' scowl.

"Sooo," the young girl drawled, indulging in her shoulder's contact, "I say we take five minutes for ourselves before we get up and do anything. You know, just to recuperate."

"I second this motion," her sister called.

"Third."

Without much enthusiasm, Weiss said, "It's a unanimous decision, then."

There it was. Team RWBY had agreed to the Schnees' invitation. They were all going to Kaiser Island. Weiss could not say she was happy about this prospect, but, in a way, the confirmation was cathartic. Blake had been calmed, Yang had been answered, and, most importantly, Ruby had been appeased. Aside from a few errant explanations that yet required a certain audience, everything had been explained. And, fortunately, the explanations met little resistance—well, unfortunately, too, but minimal argument at this time meant an heiress' peace of mind.

Weiss let the silence consume her, closing her eyes and just resting. A sigh at her side made her smile some—more than some after a moment since it meant that Ruby was here to help. Yes, that was something to be glad about. Regardless of some impending danger, Weiss was in Vale now with her girlfriend's head lolling onto her shoulder. That was something to be happy about. That was acceptance and genuine liking, whereas Atlas provided neither.

Weiss had underestimated Ruby. She had underestimated how that ignorant and naïve troublefinder could turn such a bad situation tolerable. For that, Weiss was thankful. She would enjoy what time she had with Ruby and make sure the girl had the best Christmas possible. Weiss owed her that much.

* * *

Kaiser Island. Once upon a time, the Schnees had lived in their eponymous mansion—Schnee Manor: The Heart of the Snowy Mountains. Unfortunately, it had been indefensible in its valley, too easy to attack. So long as an aggressor had minimal air capabilities or did not mind climbing a mountain, nothing could stop them from trying to sack the wealthiest family on Remnant. That led to the family's move and the creation of Kaiser Island. The White Fang had never come close to reaching that small mass of land at the south end of the Barren Sea, and for a former lieutenant who had been specifically trained to be the first, the irony of this invitation was not lost on Blake.

Frankly, she had no idea what to expect. She knew the Schnees had mellowed in their historical views, calming their aggressions after both Menagerie's fall and their move to Kaiser Island, but a threat existed for the Faunus nevertheless. Fortunately, Atlesians, and the Schnees most of all, had a reputation of keeping every promise they made. Considering Weiss promised the entire team's safety, this boded well. Still, Blake would not arrive expecting the best.

Yang, however, appeared optimistic. Blake watched the blonde mentally salivate at the gala on her horizon. For all her shots at Weiss and "high societies," Yang seemingly adored the coming opportunity. But Blake could not blame her.

"Hey," she whispered, catching Yang's ear. "What do you think?"

"About the party?" Blake nodded. "Once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing, right? Like, first of all, it's Atlas. So, that's cool. Ruby and I have always wanted to see what the world's like outside of Vale. Second, it's a _Schnee_ party, so you know it'll be good."

"Oh?"

"Dude. That's a million-Lien party. _At least_. I wouldn't even be surprised if Weiss' dad put a _billion_ into it. You know it's gonna be something special." After a wistful sigh, Yang leaned her head back. "Plus, it means more dancing with you, which is great because I like dancing with you."

"I'm sure."

"Honestly! It means I get to be around you, watch you smile," a wink was sent Blake's way. " _And_ I get to show you off to a bunch of people who can't have you."

It was flattering. If there was any person whom Blake would allow a public display of affection from, especially in such company as the gala's purported attendees, it was Yang. No one could calm the Faunus' nervous heart like her. And such was the present effect, flattery excluded. Blake relaxed and allowed herself to humor—if only hypothetically—Yang's hopes. "So, we're really doing this?"

"Please?"

"All right," Blake conceded, less optimistic than she probably sounded. "But we'll watch each other's backs, okay?"

"Oh, you know I do." This was given an impatient look. Pending Weiss' honesty, this trip could end up being a matter of life and death—particularly so in Blake's case. Moreover, if Blake was to be threatened, what would happen to Yang? That was a frightening thought—that was why Blake needed an assurance of mutual protection. Yang seemed to notice this and, shaking her head at her joke, said, "I promise, Blake. I promise that we'll keep out of trouble."

"I certainly hope so."

Blake and Yang turned to Weiss, who now stared at the ceiling with Ruby on her shoulder. "As much as I despise the gala and you three attending, Glatteis Manor is still my home. I don't want _any_ of you messing it up."

Ruby sighed, her voice almost sleepy as she snuggled into her partner's side, "No problem, Weiss. We'll be on our best behavior." A white head of hair came to rest atop her ombré own. Without having to say anything, Weiss expressed that she believed Ruby. Unfortunately, there was not enough belief there to warrant a verbal response.

The four were attentive to one another again, their five minutes' break now over. Well, Ruby was the exception, but no one on the team could bring herself to correct the girl's posture. Instead, Weiss, Yang, and Blake all looked to one another, ready for the task ahead.

"I trust you two know how to pack," Weiss began. "But make sure to pack for colder weather. And remember your dresses. My assistants can ship those with your gifts, if that's what you'd prefer."

"Eh. We'll see. Gotta get them first."

"Do you need suggestions on where to go?"

"Nah. I already know. I _also_ know that that means we're going on a shopping trip, Blakey!"

The Faunus frowned. "Do you need to phrase it like that?"

"She does. You both need one dress for each night. And one _must_ be a gown."

"You may be the worst, Weiss, but you sure do say the best things sometimes."

"I'm flattered."

"Well, _I'm_ not."

"Blake, your skin's pretty much crawling. I consider that a victory in my books!"

Shaking her head, Blake stood up. In some ways, doing so proved helpful. In one respect, she was denying Yang the satisfaction of a tease. In another respect, this change in position helped clarify that, yes, Weiss' large block of instruction did, in fact, happen. She looked down at the "Did I say something?" grin that Yang held and began counting the ways she would get that girl back later.

Now was not the time for revenge. Between packing and errands, there was very little time to spare. As such, Blake began to leave, planning for the near future.

But she was halted immediately. "Wait," Weiss called. The two looked at each other, Blake finding an odd, pleading look in the heiress' icy eyes. "Please rejoin us."

The situation had become sinister again. Blake obliged, of course, and sat back down in the chair beside Yang, but her brow was re-furrowed as her eyes trained on Weiss. No further explanation was given, though. The girl in white simply returned to Ruby, focusing all her givable affection on the young girl, who was still rejoicing in her partner's presence. Certainly, the scene was sweet, what with Ruby finding the solace she had been seeking for days, but it was also stalling. Frustratingly so.

All three pairs of eyes focused on the young girl. They each had their own reasons for looking, but, together, they shared the task of waiting for her next action. Ruby was the deciding factor here, and when she moved, so would her team.

They did not wait for long. Ruby seemed not to notice any of the eyes on her except Weiss', and, when she met them, she smiled, chipper as she ever had been. "Hey, Weiss? Do you want to go ask about Yang's present now or later? We _kinda_ need to do it today 'cause the guy said he'd get it done pretty quick."

Weiss smiled warmly, though Blake really doubted its genuineness. "Sure, Ruby. Why don't you go get ready, and we'll leave in a bit?"

The young girl nodded eagerly and hopped to her feet. "Thanks, Weiss!" she exclaimed, punctuating this by leaning down and pecking her yet reluctant girlfriend on the cheek. As soon as she pulled away, she rushed off, leaving that strange, tingling energy in her wake to wash over her teammates. She could hardly contain herself.

Blake watched the girl's exit into the hallway, finding Ruby's cheer hopeful at a time when they all should have been stressed. At least they would have that. Blake sighed and turned back to Weiss, whose eyes lingered on the hall doorframe. The heiress was watching it warily rather than proudly. She was waiting. And when blue eyes practically pounced on amber, Blake knew that the prior warmth was not genuine. At least not entirely.

"All right, now keep your voices down," Weiss commanded in a hush. She spoke with a glare and left no room for the joke Yang was about to make. "There's something I need to tell you that I can't say in front of Ruby."

In an instant, all positivity drained from Yang's face. "Why's that?"

"Because I don't have the heart to tell her. And I don't think I ever will—"

"You're going behind Ruby's back?" Weiss glared at the Faunus. But Blake continued, "Weiss, if you have something to say, say it to _all of us_. The last thing we need is Ruby, of all people, being left out of the loop."

"Believe me, I know, and that's why I feel awful about this. But please hear me out. We don't have much time."

The temperature of the room rose. Yang's eyes were far from crimson, but there was serious disdain emanating from her. Blake knew her partner would not do anything excessively rash, but the possibility for a shouting match was incredibly high. Such was why Blake, who kept her gaze on Weiss, laid her hand over Yang's. The room's temperature stabilized, and the blonde sighed.

"Thank you," whispered Weiss. She looked over to the seat beside her and picked up the torn envelope of Ruby's letter. She held it in her lap, watching it for a moment, and then looked up at her teammates. "I think Ruby might be in danger," she said bluntly, evoking a twitch from Yang. "See, I wouldn't have any problem inviting you three into my home if the circumstances were _normal_. I still probably wouldn't, but the fact remains that you would be safe."

"But…"

"But I fear my father knows about Ruby. And by that, I _do_ mean my dating her."

The tension in Yang's hand relaxed. In fact, the hand turned over to hold the one atop it as its owner's mood lifted to exasperation. "Wait. So, that's it?"

A scoff escaped the heiress, louder than she would have liked, it seemed. " _That's it_?" she asked incredulously. "Yang, if my father finds out about my relationship, then I don't think I'll be able to attend Beacon anymore."

Blake blinked. Well, this was certainly something.

"Wait. So, you're saying that if your dad finds out you're dating my sister—"

"If he finds out I'm dating _anyone_ when I should be studying."

"Right. Yeah. So, if he finds out you're dating someone, he's just gonna pull you out of school?"

"That's what I said, yes."

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?" Yang was given an offended glare, but it was hardly offensive. The blonde was simply disappointed, and Blake doubted any revelation would sway her. "You're an adult, Weiss. You can choose what you want to do. Just 'cause he wants to pull you out of school doesn't mean you have to go through with it. And, besides, why are you trying to keep this from Ruby? I'm sure she'd love to help you fix this."

Face tinged red with growing anger, Weiss snapped, "That's _exactly_ why." She clenched her fist, crumpling the letter entirely. "If she knows what's going on, she'll try to help. And if she tries to help with my father, not one of us will escape that island unscathed. She's just too…nice."

"Well, what do you suggest, then?" Blake asked.

Weiss paused. She opened her mouth, shook her head a few times, and, finally, answered, "Keep her happy. Keep her safe. But don't tell her _anything_ about what I'm telling you now. My father will be watching her—judging her—and if he notices even a slight misstep, he'll know that Ruby's aware. And that wouldn't be good for any of us."

She sighed, calming herself. "The only way she can help is if she doesn't know she's helping. Your sister has a good heart, Yang, but she's a social mess. Her speeches might work on us or JNPR, but that's only because we don't know better. If she tries to give my father a speech or asks him to let me stay at Beacon, she will be _severely_ outclassed. You and I both know that if Ruby sees an opportunity to help, she goes for it. And I don't want that. She needs to learn quickly how to choose her fights."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that you don't want her talking with anyone?"

"Of course not," the heiress dismissed, believably honest. "No, I want her to speak with people. I want her to speak with my father. I think Ruby has the ability to leave a great impression on people, but she always fails miserably when she's aware of the impression she's making. I'd rather her not know about my father's observation. That way, he can meet the Ruby that I've come to like, not the Ruby that I started off _not_ liking."

The two of black and yellow looked to each other. To Blake, the point made sense: leave Ruby ignorant because an ignorant Ruby was a natural Ruby. Despite this, her conscience ached. The plan was so underhanded and unfriendly that she had to question Weiss' motive. However, Blake had known Weiss for over a year now—not to mention having known _of_ her for even longer. If the heiress went behind someone's back, there would be good reason to believe she had a justification for it. And if what Weiss said about Otto was true, then some credence may be given to her argument.

This did not account for Yang, though. A calloused thumb rubbed along Blake's, a means of deliberation and a stressed one at that. Yang's eyes were cast downward, and her teeth were grit as though she had something to say. But when at last she said it, the words were nowhere near as angry as Blake had expected.

"Fine," she relented. "Whatever. Just don't ask me for anything like this again, all right? I'm only doing this because I don't want Ruby wrapped up in your family's dirty laundry."

"Thank you—"

"I don't even want to hear it. Just go. Make Ruby happy and don't bring her down with you."

Weiss' acceptance was wordless. She nodded solemnly and stood, bowing her head to the partnership as she walked by. Ruby's letter and envelope remained in the loveseat, sitting on both ends in opposite conditions. The thumb on Blake's stopped its movements.

"Yang?" asked the Faunus. "Are you okay?"

"Nope."

"You want to tell Ruby, don't you?"

"No. Weiss is right. The less Ruby knows, the better. I just didn't want to hear any of that."

She had a point. Why would Weiss not tell Ruby about this pressure but let Ruby's famously protective sister in on the secret? It certainly was not because she trusted Yang—trust existed, just not for these sorts of things. Perhaps the information was meant as a reassurance, but Weiss was smart enough to know that deceit would never reassure the blonde. If she thought Ruby would get worked up over first impressions, she surely would have taken Yang's reaction into account, too. But perhaps that was it—perhaps reason was not Weiss' goal. Perhaps she just wanted to vent. And if she could not vent to Ruby, then she would need to vent to her girlfriend's sister and her own confidante.

It was reassuring in a way, but it did not help Blake's conscience. Less so Yang's.

Blake stood up and brought the hand with her. She moved before Yang and looked down, catching tired lilac with her own tired amber. She tugged on the hand. "Come here," she said. Yang stood up, too, slowly but not begrudgingly, and Blake wasted no time in bringing her into a hug. "It'll be okay," she murmured into the blonde's shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"It's just—"

"Shh," soothed the Faunus. "We have enough to worry about as it is. Let's not let Weiss get to us." As she ran a hand across Yang's back, the head on her shoulder nodded. "Now let's get you out of the house. I don't want you worrying about any of this. We can take care of Ruby when we get to Atlas, if we even need to. But, right now, I need to take care of you. Okay?"

There was tension in Yang's shoulders that begged to say no, but a tightening of the embrace eased it. "Okay," she whispered, relaxing. "Thank you, Blake."

Closing her eyes, Blake let the returning warmth engulf her. "It's okay. We'll have each other's backs."

"Always," Yang assured.

"Always."

It would be a stressful day from then on out, due in no small part to the shopping experience that Yang led Blake on across downtown Vale. Their moods would improve, and the prospect of travel would seem more and more reasonable as the sun began to set. But still there was always that thought of Weiss' fear. Something horrible had shaken her stalwart poise, and she had dodged around and lied to more questions than Blake knew her capable of.

Something about her father, something about the gala, scared her. And, even as the team reconvened for dinner, Blake could not shake the thought that whatever Weiss feared was what she should fear, too.

Kaiser Island. In some ways, it was exciting—in others, imposing—but the general consensus among the group was of Ruby's joy. Yang would follow her sister's cheer anywhere, and, likewise, Blake would follow Yang. And when Ruby's cheer was focused on potentially false promises of an extravagant Christmas in Atlas, then the decision was practically made. Team RWBY was going to Kaiser Island. Honestly, the thought was a bit frightening.

* * *

So, in case you haven't figured it out yet (or if I haven't blatantly repeated it enough), Team RWBY's going to Weiss' house for Christmas. I promise it'll be more interesting than it sounds—Weiss wasn't worried for nothing. That said, take her worries with a grain of salt. I've been building up the letters she delivered as the demise of Team RWBY, and you saw how that turned out. There may still be truth to the letters' descriptor, but realize that Weiss has a perspective on her family that Blake, Yang, and Ruby don't share. I'm excited to show you all the things I'll put them all through.

While I'm on the topic of perspective, though, I'd like to talk about Blake. Early on in the chapter, there were a few actions that may have seemed out of character for her, and while I do acknowledge that Blake's drawing of hearts _is_ out of character, the point of that scene and scenes like it was to give her an uncharacteristic moment—like every other character in this chapter. I know it has been a few months since the last chapter, so I'll remind you that, not six to eight hours before she woke up, she had returned home from a birthday dinner with Yang. The Blake at the beginning was still riding the high from that date, and that led to her inability to think of anything besides Yang. Then came the hearts. Love makes us do weird things—that action was actually drawn from life experience, although I wasn't drawing hearts at the time.

As for Yang, I _really_ liked her dialogue in this chapter. Like, there were a lot of times where I got carried away with her jokes, even to the point where, upon rereading the scenes, some of what she said made no sense at all. I had to cut out a few of those jokes, unfortunately, but I'm happy with the finished product. Plus, I got a few Blake and Ruby jokes in, too. Yay.

Lastly—well, lastly with regards to the chapter-focused commentary—it'd be remiss of me to not mention the first scene. The character of Alexia is one that is very important to Weiss' development. I'll expand upon how this is true in later chapters, but understand that Weiss' mother had a very lasting impact on her daughter's life and shaped her idea of what a good person is. I'm excited to show you how the rest of the Schnee family shaped Weiss and how Alexia shaped all of them. However, I do regret to say that this chapter's flashback might be the only one in the entire story. But I don't know. I'll have a bit of room down the line to fit in additional scenes if they're organic enough, but I imagine most of Alexia's characterization will come from the people who knew her. So, keep an eye out for that.

Now I'd like to talk about why I was absent for so long. Way back before chapter three, I was dealing with compounding work, school, and life problems that made me take a short, unexpected hiatus. Fortunately, I was able to schedule around the problems at that time, leading to chapter three's release. But then January hit, and I found myself bogged down in the same things except with even more added on.

At the beginning of this year, I had more than a few big projects to work on with very little advance notice, which meant that I would receive an e-mail saying, "Here's the file you need to edit, Cowjump. I'll need it back in a couple days," right as I would be sitting down to write _On Kaiser Island_. However, that wouldn't have put much of a dent in my fiction-writing speed if it were the only thing that happened. I'm also in college right now, and since January was the beginning of a new semester, I had to deal with school stuff—which normally would be fine, but I messed up. I registered for classes like I normally would, trying to balance courses that required a lot of writing and attention with lighter courses that I only have to show up for. Unfortunately, those lighter courses turned out to be _super_ dependent on writing, so my schedule was pretty much packed. Moreover, due to their assignments and deadlines thereof—in addition to work stuff—I ended up having to write pretty much from the moment I came home to the moment I went to bed from January until April.

This eventually put me into a bit of a fatigued, self-esteemless rut, and all I wanted to do was shut the world out. I had family problems at the time, a couple sicknesses, and, on top of all of that, I couldn't stop thinking about how I was abandoning you all. I was letting private messages go unanswered. I was taking criticism personally. I was trying to write apologies for not apologizing sooner, and that became an exponentially hard task. And I ended up not updating over the summer.

I'm sorry. Really, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't even want to read these excuses. What I did was wrong, and I will freely admit that. Hopefully, however, the release of this chapter will reset the wait for a new progress report from me, thereby relieving the anxiety of "I haven't interacted with my readers in months." I don't expect everything to be copacetic anytime soon, but I'll do what I can to mend some bridges. I owe you all that much for being so patient.

That said, I also owe someone else my gratitude. While I was in the middle of that depressed and over-stressed slump, I found a friend in fellow fan fiction writer CalitaRael. She had approached me with a review on _Valence_ back in August of last year. At the time, she threatened my life for how I was characterizing Blake, and she still does—every chance she gets. If it weren't for her, though, I don't think this chapter would have come out. Singlehandedly, she pulled me out of my slump, made me smile, made me happy, and had my back every step along the way of returning to _On Kaiser Island_.

I don't know where I'd be without her. More than likely, I wouldn't be as happy with my life as I am now, and this chapter certainly wouldn't have been as funny as it (hopefully) is (CalitaRael has a great sense of humor that allowed me to draw my own out.). I really cannot thank her enough. She's one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I am so, so, so grateful for her threatening my life. It ended up putting me on the right track.

If I could ask a favor of all of you, please go read her Bumblebee fanfic _Forlorn_. It deals with the topic of an unwaveringly straight Yang trying to appease and grow attracted to a Blake who admits love for her partner in the first chapter. I hardly read any fan fiction anymore, but _Forlorn_ is told in such a mature and compelling way that I've grown to adore it. Plus, the writing style somewhat reminds me of my own, and I'm serving as CalitaRael's editor and sounding board. So, if you like _Valence_ , OKI, and/or Bumblebee, I heavily suggest reading her work. And please, if you do, send her some nice words in a review. I know she'd appreciate them.

Anyway, I'm gonna leave it at that. I'll try and be more active with regards to PM's, review replies, and my Tumblr. But even if I go silent again (Which, God willing, won't happen. CalitaRael would wring my neck.), I will _never_ give up on this story.

Thank you for being so patient, and thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed!

Stay safe and stay tuned.


	5. Chapter 5: Travels and Tribulations

This chapter took longer to come out than it probably should have, and I'm sorry. I've been distant and uncommunicative for a long while now. Some of you have reached out to check on my or this story's status, and I've ignored most of those attempts. Actually, I've read the messages, and I appreciate every one of them, but I've been insufficient in answering you. Part of the reason why this chapter took so long, and part of why I've been so distant, is shame. I've felt ashamed about my writing ability and my relationship with you all as an author—because I haven't been writing and because I haven't been balancing my work/life schedule correctly, I've felt trapped by my own inability. And because of this, I've been pushing myself even further from Fanfiction, making chapter progress or PM/review responses next to impossible. This isn't an excuse for my absence, just my reason. Again, I'm sorry.

I've been busy with school, and I've been going through a rough few months, characterized by health and interpersonal problems. Between these, I've felt suffocated, and writing fiction was the last thing on my mind. It used to be that fiction was my escape from these sorts of problems, but, with new classes every semester that keep asking for more writing, I was burnt out and ashamed about it by the time I could get back to OKI.

This story is not being put on hiatus, and it never will. Although the waits might be long, I _will_ inform you if my decision to write this story changes. And I imagine it won't because that's not who I am. But still, I need to do a better job at responding to you. So, I promise I'll try. But if another wait like this last one occurs, just know why it's happening: the things in my life that have kept me from writing aren't over, and they look like they'll keep coming back.

Again, I'm sorry. I hope this chapter serves as a decent apology. I hope you enjoy chapter five of _On Kaiser Island_.

* * *

In the last chapter of _On Kaiser Island_ , Weiss returned to Vale, bringing her father's invitations to Team RWBY. She and the rest of her team were invited to Kaiser Island for the winter break and Christmas, during which the Schnee Gala will be held—a three-day event meant to celebrate Remnant's most powerful family, its donors, and the goodwill they share. Weiss explained this would be a stressful time, being that her continued attendance at Beacon Academy depended on her team's behavior at the gala. But, despite the numerous warnings given by Weiss, Blake, and Yang, Ruby managed to change her friends' minds. Team RWBY was going to Kaiser Island.

* * *

Chapter 5: Travels and Tribulations

Yesterday was supposed to be packing day. Yesterday was supposed to be productive. Yesterday was supposed to be the day when every plan on Team RWBY's itinerary was dropped for their trip to Kaiser Island.

But no. It seemed as though yesterday had been about fun, and now the sisters were nowhere near prepared.

"Hey, Ruby!" Yang called to the other room, making Blake's ears recoil at this early, early morning loudness. "Don't forget those sweaters I got you!"

No one was happy about this rush—let alone the hour. Even Weiss, who beat Blake in terms of morning-personness, was frustrated to the point of shouting. She had been reluctant about this upcoming trip due to, initially, fear, but now her patience was being tested between a panicked Ruby and a grumbling, growling Yang. Blake, meanwhile, had to sit down—if not for her composure then for her upset stomach.

"Yeah, I got 'em!" Ruby called back. "Wait—Where's my hoodie?"

"Good lord, you've asked that question three times. It's _still_ in your suitcase." Although Weiss could be a fine enough organizer under most other circumstances, there was something about this addition of personal angst that made her voice especially shriller. Blake could tell it hurt everyone.

"I swear," said Yang, "she'd better shut up, or I'm gonna…I don't know. The last thing I need right now is her screaming at Ruby."

The Faunus' voice was weary, almost ghostly. "Yang, please try not to focus on that. Weiss knows what she's doing." A low huff was all she heard from the blonde, who stalked back into the room from her closet and dropped a stack of shirts into her suitcase. It was 4:15 a.m., and nothing anyone could do would mollify Yang. Regardless, Blake offered, "Is there anything you need help with?"

Exasperated, Yang answered, "Yeah." From on the closet door's back hook, Yang retrieved a couple garment bags—her and Blake's respective dresses—and set them half-gingerly on the bed. "Go get that guy and tell him to take these out to the car."

Before Blake could get up, however, an unperturbable man, wearing a black suit like all the other valets, entered the room. He moved briskly to the side of the bed and took the dresses without being asked or seen by Yang. He and the bags left the room before the blonde reemerged with a stack of pajamas and newly bought sweaters. With a sigh, she put them in her luggage and trudged back to find more.

Blake was torn between wanting to hide her face in her knees and wanting to help Yang. She had gotten about four hours of sleep, which was in that grey area between a nap and proper REM sleep, and, with her drooping eyelids and low-level urge to vomit, she was decidedly tired. But Yang was frustrated and needed help with calming down.

…But nothing Blake could do would calm her. Mornings were mornings to Yang, no matter the context, and on such especial days where mornings were _particularly_ disruptive, Blake found no hope of a complacent Yang.

Fortunately, the girl in yellow was hardly the type to brush aside something as important as this. She was already dressed and ready to go—black jeans replacing her shorts and a slim, sand-colored fatigue jacket replacing her usual, whose unweighted replica Blake wore—and she was, despite her frustration, fully awake. She and Weiss, although conflictingly, were taking charge during this pre-flight rush, Yang making sure to plan for every contingency and Weiss taking stock of what everyone had. All the clothes the older partnership had bought were either packed away or waiting to be packed while the younger partnership's gifts were already taken care of. Weiss had triple-checked every sheet of paperwork; Yang had made sure everyone was up and about. Unfortunately, neither seemed to care about their synchronicity.

Blake, meanwhile, had nothing to do but wait. She had packed her bag yesterday like she was supposed to and, for the sake of wasting time, had double-checked it ten minutes ago. With the going of those dress bags, everything she needed to take care of was taken care of. She did think of helping Yang or Weiss or Ruby more, but she realized that offering help to the latter two would only get her head bitten off, and Yang was too busy to offer tasks. That last request had been the only response to all six of Blake's similar inquiries.

Everyone was on edge, and as soon as they all accepted that, the less tense their interactions would be. Hopefully, it would all be better once they left for the airport.

Ruby hurried across the hallway, boots stomping frantically into the bathroom.

At least getting Blake's head bit off was something to do.

She sighed and stood from Yang's couch. With the blonde fretting over her bag, the Faunus' leave went unnoticed. Indeed, the tension of the house was not only in the air, compounding with every word and sound and silence alike, but it was on every girl's face.

Midway down the house's central hall, which linked the bedrooms together, was a bathroom. In this bathroom, as Blake could see after walking a few feet, was Ruby with plastic bags and disheveled hair. Her hands were tossing her toothbrush and toothpaste in with her combs and brushes while her mind and eyes shifted fearfully around the room. She needed help, and Weiss was nowhere to be seen.

Shaking her head, partly out of incomprehension and partly out of tiredness, Blake approached. "Here," she said quietly, catching her leader's attention but not startling her. Blake took the bags from Ruby's hands. "You don't want to pack your toothpaste in with your brushes. That's asking for trouble."

Ruby blinked. "Oh," she sighed, sleepily out of breath. "I didn't…"

"It's okay." When the two looked at each other, Blake found that the young girl's expression was nonexistent, gaze cast nowhere and with a pallor under her eyes. Blake forced a half-smile. "Keep your dental products in one bag, your hair and shower products in another, and your makeup in a third. That way, if something goes wrong with one bag, at least you won't end up with toothpaste in your hair. Do you see what I mean?" she asked as she began sorting Ruby's bags for her. The young girl could only nod. "Good. Now, where's your floss?"

Nothing happened for a couple seconds, the words taking their time to register in Ruby's mind. But soon enough, Ruby would hear the question, and then she would look down, pulling a drawer out from beneath the sink and searching for her floss. But then their moment was interrupted, a curt "Ahem" coming from the hallway.

Weiss was a morning person. She had proven time and again that she could appear calm and poised at the most ridiculous hours, even when she was half-asleep—as she admitted to be only earlier. However, worse than her morning enthusiasm were her perfectionism and urge to stay in control. Mixed with her disdain for the upcoming trip, this was a horrible combination.

She grimaced, accusing, "What are you _doing_?"

Ruby, with eyes unfocused and breaths uneasy, proved unable to speak in the five seconds Blake allowed. The Faunus answered in her stead. "I'm helping her pack."

"Yes, and not packing, yourself. We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

A petty urge roiled within Blake—an urge to bite, to lash out, and tell Weiss she was being a pain. But, as stated, the urge was knowledgably petty. Blake let the anger go, shaking her head and resuming her organization. "I packed last night." She said this, and, interrupting the heiress' interruption, continued, "And I double-checked this morning. Right now, I'm making sure Ruby's okay. Do you want to help?"

Weiss scoffed but held her harshest comments. "What do you think I've been doing?"

"Getting everyone worked up."

"It was inevitable, Blake. Two of you didn't pack."

Unable to contain her exhausted frustration, Blake balled her fist, crinkling the plastic in her hand. She sent a glare Weiss' way. "We're trying to fix that. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to continue helping. If you want us to make it to the airport on time, then make sure Ruby's okay. She needs your help. As a _friend_ , not a supervisor."

At the best of times, Blake could justify Weiss' arrogance. She was mean, most definitely, and condescending to an infuriating fault, but she did care—arrogance and condescension were guises to her thorough, nitpicking, and occasionally pedagogical care. But at the worst of times, such as the time right now, her arrogance and meanness were plainly unjustifiable. They got in the way and made others feel like being mean in response.

However, there were, and always would be, two redeeming constants to Weiss' character that Blake had surmised: an ever-listening ear for reason and an ever-growing exception for Ruby. These were facts.

Weiss' grimace remained by Blake's reply, yet her posture slackened and her eyes moved with honest apology to the girl in red. Ruby was teetering on the edge of sleep, even while she stood there waiting, and as Blake continued to pack Ruby's toiletries—of which the Faunus packed excess due to an unfamiliarity with her leader's usual routines—Weiss moved into the claustrophobic space of the bathroom. She took her partner's hand, pulled softly, and led Ruby out and back into her own room, muttering promises of sleep on the way to Atlas.

This travel was not proving easy on anyone. Especially not with such a last-minute warning. Blake could not decide whether to worry about Weiss' father or her own passport, which had only been promised, never seen.

Shaking her head again, she decided to worry about neither and instead continued packing Ruby's things. The hair and dental product bags were the first to be sealed, being that they were fairly straightforward with regards to composition, while the third bag—that of makeup—ended up being the "everything else" bag. Blake was tired, and Weiss had worn down her patience. She could forgive herself for this mistake. In the end, Ruby would have everything she needed and then some.

Zipping the third bag closed, Blake grabbed them all up and looked at the mirror. Her eyeliner had been difficult but turned out all right, her brushed hair still seemed disheveled, and she had yet to don her bow. Blake felt like a mess, but, despite her appearance, she also felt presentable enough for the day to come. And, perhaps most importantly, she looked awake. That certainly boosted her confidence.

Ruby's belongings in hand, the Faunus turned and exited into the hall. However, despite her intentions of heading straight into her leader's room across the hall, her sensitive and weary ears picked up the sound of pacing to her right—from her and Yang's room. Ignoring Ruby and Weiss, who now sat on the former's lower bunk, Blake looked to the master bedroom door and, finding it closed, approached it.

"Yang?" She knocked lightly. "Is everything all right in there?"

The pacing stopped. Two seconds later, Yang responded, "Yeah! Just packing Ruby's presents. Be with you in a minute!"

Something about this made Blake pause. Yang's words seemed truthful enough, but her physical response, her stopping and silence… Something was up. Trying the doorknob, Blake found that the bedroom had been locked. Worse yet, Yang was still standing somewhere in the room, frozen.

There was a moment where the girl in black considered asking what was wrong, but she decided against. She knew how Yang got when upset, and locking herself away was not a very Yang thing to do in those instances. The blonde was definitely hiding something right now, and Blake did worry about what was being hidden, but… Priorities. She still needed to take care of Ruby—and even Weiss—and admitting any sort of weakness on Yang's part would only upset the whole house. This hiding thing would have to be a bygone for now; maybe she could ask about it later. Somewhat reluctantly, Blake turned and moved across the hall to Ruby's room, finding her leader and Weiss where they had been before.

Poor Ruby. By the mere fact of her being awake, Blake could tell she was excited about the trip to come. But she was out of it, too—completely so, her eyes were drooping and her posture was slumped against Weiss' shoulder. Likewise, the heiress' gaze was faraway and unamused.

However, Weiss' hand appeared far warmer than her gaze. She was holding Ruby to her, letting the young girl lean against her side while making small, rubbing motions on her partner's forearm. These did not stop as Weiss' coldness turned to Blake. "Are you ready?"

"Not yet, no."

Blake entered the room, finding that her concerned staring mixed awkwardly with Weiss' visible disinterest for said staring. Ruby's suitcase was laid open on the floor, so the Faunus knelt before it. All of the clothes showed attempts at being folded, but none were perfectly so. Blake placed the plastic bags against the side of the suitcase to be held up by the clothes before she sighed and looked over at the couple.

She asked, "Is that everything?"

"Yes," responded Weiss.

Nothing more was said, so Blake closed the lid on the suitcase, pushed it shut, and ensured the three latches remained clasped. She really needed to get over the expectation that they would not. She then stood, moving the luggage upright in the process. She felt winded already.

But she still had people to help—not to mention time to kill, being that Yang still had not unlocked her door. Amber eyes watched as silver closed. Blake then looked to Weiss again. "Is she all right?"

Although Ruby nodded weakly, her girlfriend answered. "She didn't get enough sleep. I told her she needed to be in bed by ten, but she ended up texting me until one."

Blake restrained her instinctual question. This was Ruby, after all; of course she would text someone who was only a room away. Instead, Blake asked, "So, what about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

"Are you all right? You were up texting her—"

"I'll live, Blake. I just want to get this over with."

From the hallway, a small _click_ was heard, meaning that Blake could return for her suitcase. At some point. Weiss' eyes had turned to an unoccupied corner of the room at the previous question. There was something on her mind, but, frankly, Blake did not care to talk right now, either. "All right. Well, just know that Ruby and I are here for you."

She tried a smile, failed, and turned to leave.

"I—"

Blake's movements stopped. Weiss had interrupted herself.

Turning an eye back to the girl in white, the Faunus found a resigned expression. "I'm worried, Blake. I don't know how this is going to turn out—any of this. For all I know, it _could_ turn out well. But… I just have this feeling."

"Yeah," said Blake, accepting the unwanted conversation, "you're not alone."

"We don't have to go, you know? If this is too much of a problem—"

Suddenly, Ruby spoke up, groggy yet somehow unflappable. "I want to, though."

Weiss and Blake looked to each other. The former exhaled. "I know. And we'll go. I'm just…" The heiress bit the inside of her lip. "I'm just not looking forward to the next headache."

"I can get you some aspirin to take ahead of time," Blake offered.

"No. It takes too long and doesn't do much to help."

"I packed some ibuprofen. Have you tried that?"

Weiss shook her head. "It's worth a shot."

"Yeah."

The three were then silent for what felt like a couple minutes. No one had energy. Their professors would have been mortified had this been the morning before a mission; though, everyone seemed anxious enough for it to seem like one. Ruby's shallow exhales and the soft ministrations against her arm were the only things Blake could hear. Evidently, no one wanted to talk, after all.

Then, suddenly and like a storm, Yang, with suitcase in hand, practically burst out of her room. The commotion of the door being thrown open, the luggage hitting a hallway wall, and the ungraceful stumbles drew Ruby, Weiss, and Blake's attention to the doorway and the blonde there beyond. She was flustered, but, thankfully, she did not seem angry anymore.

With amber eyes focused on hurried lilac, Blake arched an eyebrow and asked, "Is everything all right?"

However, Yang would continue to stare for another moment, unmoving. But then she caught herself, shook her head, and asked, "Huh?"

"Yang?" Blake tried again, searching for her partner's patient side. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Peachy. Thanks for asking." Even her speech was rushed. Had not packing really gotten her this upset? Or was the weight of the trip finally getting to her? "Hey, I'm gonna go, uh, put this in the car. Just want to make sure it isn't…you know… Ugh, whatever. I'll meet you guys outside." At this, her storming stumble continued down the hall.

Tired, Blake surmised.

"What's her problem?"

Blake turned to the heiress behind her, finding a dual expression of annoyance and bewilderment. Ruby, who was resting against Weiss' shoulder, had meanwhile been awakened by her sister's rush. But she was still not up to talking, at least not when Weiss was in a mood.

Shaking her head, the Faunus half-joked, "You, I take it."

"Why, thank you." Weiss smiled wryly in return. "That actually made me feel better about today."

Being that Ruby was awake now—her breaths were deepening, her eyes were widening, and her posture was becoming less like a zombie and more like a drunk—there was no reason to stand around any longer. All the team's bags had been packed. All the appliances in the house were unplugged or turned off. And all members of this sleepy team were ready and waiting to move. It was time to go, Blake thought, and so she looked to the partnership before her.

"I'm going to get my things, and then I think we can go."

"'Kay, Blake," Ruby managed. "We'll meet you outside."

The young girl then tried to stand, and although she was successful to a degree, Blake watched as Weiss held on to her, making sure her partner did not topple due to her eagerness. The look Weiss gave Ruby was indeed still disappointed, but it was softer, somehow, and Blake could almost see the treasured knowledge in Weiss' mind that Ruby could do better.

Despite the hour and the resulting tumult, this sight gave Blake cause to smile.

She turned away, letting Weiss and Ruby get themselves out the door while she, herself, moved across the hallway. It was odd, somehow—it reminded her of the emotion she had felt after leaving for Beacon last summer. Her previous, and Weiss' current, room was empty—as neat and lifelessly pristine as the day either had first seen it—while Yang's was like a hotel room, whose bed had been hastily made so as not to inconvenience the staff and whose doors and cabinets were pulled open in leave yet all the contents within them, or what was left, were in folded order. The house was empty, Ruby and Weiss now walking down the hall, and Blake could not contain her sigh at this unnatural silence.

Her boots crunched against the carpet. Her eyes wandered across the furnishings. Her heart yearned for the bed resting centrally against the back wall. Of course, she wanted sleep, as would any rational person awake at four (But, then again, could anyone on winter break claim to be rational when choosing to be awake at such an ungodly hour?), sleep came second to sentimentality. The Faunus was, characteristically, unsentimental about many things in life, but things she could call her own—her library, her friends, her alliances—meant something great to her. And when she looked at that bed and not at the luggage she was supposed to grab, her heart began to ache—it was just as much her bed as it was Yang's. If only she could pack it and bring it to Atlas.

This place, more than the generationally lived-in dormitory at Beacon and her parents' house in the mountainside forest of Sierra, was Blake's home. Everything within was owned by the sisters, passed down by their hero, Summer, or existed as monuments to the memories Team RWBY had made here. And now Blake was leaving it.

She would not be gone for long, and she did not expect anything bad to happen on the way to Atlas, but there was a sentimentality that kept her from making this goodbye easy. First hearts in the margins, now this? She was _definitely_ losing her edge.

Shaking the thought off, Blake walked over to the couch she had sat on before and took the black ribbon that had been resting on its right arm. With a quick, practiced tie, her ears were bound and her hearing was, too. Next she adjusted the jacket on her shoulders, making sure Yang's leather would do its job, and then picked up her suitcase. With an accepting and unintentionally excited sigh, Blake gave her and Yang's room one last look and then left.

As she made her way to the exit, she could see the red door ahead, and this is what she focused on. Silence still pervaded the house, what with Yang, Ruby, Weiss, and Weiss' assistants all having gone out to the car, and this silence was unnerving. She tried her best to ignore the lack of arguments, the stillness of the home theater, and the darkness of each and every room she passed by. And she was successful in her ignorance, focusing on that red door. Upon reaching it, she took a breath, bracing her weary self for the winter ahead, and opened it.

Immediately, a gust of cold air rushed past her, glancing her knuckles and cheeks and letting whatever was left of her fatigue know that she was truly awake now. Through the doorway, she could see only two figures—Yang and one remaining assistant, Ruby and Weiss having already found warmth inside the white limousine—against a backdrop of dead trees and grey-violet skies. It was not a particularly welcoming sight, but… It must have been the tiredness, but, in a way, Blake thought, this was exciting.

Harrowing, actually, but exciting, too.

She stepped out of the house's caring warmth and into today's travels. Just as Blake closed the door behind her, she saw Yang react, getting up from her lean against the trunk. The blonde smiled, albeit a bit forcibly, and approached her partner. "Hey, I'm just gonna lock up," she said, coming closer until both girls passed on the way to their separate objectives. "Then we can hit the road. _Then_ I'm gonna help you with your stuff."

Blake shook her head, frosted breath escaping her lips as she laughed silently.

"Not in that order, just so you know!"

"I kind of figured."

It was cold out—Blake's cheeks were still tingling for the warmth they so missed—but Vale's winter was manageable. This is not to say the cold was wanted, though. Even the driver, who was used to Atlesian temperatures, did not wait for the Faunus to open the trunk, instead finding his seat and preparing for the drive ahead. He would not have to worry much—he and the others who had been in the house were, purportedly, stationed in Vale for Weiss' convenience. They would brave a mild winter while Team RWBY luxuriated on briny, frozen Kaiser Island. Blake just wanted to get out of the cold.

With a _pop_ , the limousine's trunk opened. Ruby's two cases—one for clothes, one for Crescent Rose—rested atop Yang's single while Weiss' lone duffle bag sat tucked away in a corner. There was enough room on the opposite side of Yang and Ruby's cases for Blake's.

The girl in black and tan looked to her right when she heard the sound of crunching dirt. Yang, with her consciously confident stride, was tucking her key into her jacket pocket and smiling a faux-disappointed smile. "I told you I'd take care of that, didn't I?"

"You never said when," replied Blake, closing the trunk. "Besides, you've done more than enough, Yang. I'm afraid you're going to overexert yourself."

"Me? Overexert yours— _myself_?"

"Case in point." Smirking, Blake turned to her partner. "Neither of us slept much last night."

"Yeah, and not in a good way."

"Which means you need your rest."

"Which means you need _your_ rest, too."

Ironically, winning an argument with Yang about who should bear the greater burden was like reasoning with a cat. Blake could say whatever she wanted, but, regardless, Yang's mind would already be made up. Yet Blake figured that she, herself, was part of that problem by not being one to accept help easily.

She closed her eyes and agreed, "Fine. But I'm making sure you rest with me."

"Then let's get to it," Yang said, trying and failing to give her patented wink. Blake did not comment on this, though. No one here wanted to think about the hour anymore; they could all see it between the frost on the windows and the expressions on each other. Blake was just thankful that by passing Yang and the door she held open, warmth came quickly.

The heater was on full blast, making the small space stuffy but altogether better than what was outside. Blake crouched along the central aisle, passing by the younger partnership, Ruby now huddled against Weiss' side—who was all but hiding in her wool coat—and sat on the bench across from them, one seat away from the back wall. Yang could have the corner to rest against while Blake could enjoy both heaters, living and not.

Yang followed after, closing the door behind herself. Only one pair of eyes watched as she duck-walked through the limousine, and only that pair of eyes was met with a gradually awakening smile. Yang's smoothness in action showed no signs of decay, her arm slipping around her partner's shoulder as she settled into the back corner of the seat. And as though Yang had willed it, the limousine began its slow roll forward.

Weiss sighed from across the aisle, head tilting to rest on Ruby's. Simultaneously, the arm around Blake's shoulder pulled her into the form beside her. Yang's chest and collarbone were sturdy and soft, and as Blake's head rested on her partner, her gaze moved beyond the care shown by Ruby and Weiss and toward that ranch house she called home. The car had to turn around on the red dirt driveway to get out, and this brought the building into view for all four members of the team. Only Blake seemed sentimental about it, though—Yang was excited, Weiss was not, and Ruby had all but passed out by now. Yet still Blake watched with a wistful frown as her home became shrouded by the driveway's trees.

Soon, they would be on the road, and all that would be left of that secluded house for the next two weeks would be Blake's memories.

Perhaps to hide away from that overly sentimental thought, or perhaps simply to relax, Blake closed her eyes and pressed further against Yang, veritably laying on the girl now. Thankfully, the arm around her shoulder was greeting. Yang brought her other arm up to link with the first, leaning down and kissing the Faunus' head as she hugged her.

"Hey," she whispered into the bow-covered ears, too quiet for Ruby or Weiss to hear. "Hey. It's okay. It's not like we're gonna be gone for long."

"I know," Blake whispered back. She let herself melt into the embrace and the occasional pecks against her hair. "I'm just…"

"You're still not sure, huh?"

"I am. It's just… What if something _does_ happen, Yang? What if it's _not_ okay? We're not dealing with the White Fang or cut-and-dry bad guys anymore. The people at this party—"

"Are going to be fine. Relax, kitten. It's not like we're running for public office—if they want to ruin us, they'll probably just stop us from working desk jobs. Oh, the _horror_."

Blake sighed. "Yang…"

"It's not even about that, is it? You're homesick, aren't you?"

Yes. Blake had known it all along, but she could not bring herself to admit it verbally. Because that was not all she felt—that was just what she felt most strongly _right now_. Last night, her anxiety had been of international travel, and, hours before that, she had worried about the gala's benefactors, who had largely, in various ways, played parts in Menagerie's operation. But, yes, she was homesick. And, no, she did not see Yang's understanding hug as reductive.

"I'm staying with you."

"And I'm staying with _you_ ," assured Yang affectionately. "Through thick and thin."

The two simply lay together, forgetting about the house they had left behind and the travel still ahead. They took comfort in each other, their eyes closing slowly.

However, when Blake's eyes closed fully, Yang's head happened to move to the side, resting her cheek against her partner's head. This would not have been a problem normally, but Yang's eyes, half-lidded and ready for sleep, opened again at the sight they were met with. They had landed on Weiss, as Blake would soon find out, and the heiress' steely gaze.

"Uhh," Yang tried, fidgeting and thus informing Blake of their audience. "Were you, um… Did you hear all that?"

The Faunus reluctantly opened her eyes to find her teammate staring, watchful and inscrutable. "I'm less than five feet from you," Weiss said, deadpan.

"That didn't answer…"

"You don't need to worry about the other guests," she sighed. Her voice was quiet, likely for Ruby's sake, but her expression was now alert. In the hand not holding her partner, she had a glass of water. She sipped at it. "The worst they will do is hurt your feelings. After all, their primary goal in attending is to win my father's favor. That goes for everyone. And I would think blacklisting my guests—which, as they know, are my father's guests, too—would be the last thing on their minds. Believe me, they will _act_ like they have power, but don't let them get to you. The worst people you will meet are those who act like they have _no_ power."

The older couple just stared at her for a moment. For Blake, this was reassuring, if in a very Weiss way. For, Yang, however, embarrassment still seemed to be on her mind. "That still didn't answer—"

Weiss set her glass down. "I heard most of your conversation."

"Not all of it?"

"No."

"Not the sex stuff?"

 _Well_. Apparently, embarrassment truly _was_ on Yang's mind, just not her own embarrassment. Weiss' face recoiled in a way Blake had never seen it recoil before. It practically twisted in on itself, eyes wincing, mouth contorting in a grimace, and neck twisting so no part of her would face Yang. She was disgusted and wanted Yang to know. On technicality, though, Blake only just fared better—her face was burning and her mind was scrambling to remember what Yang was talking about. What sex stuff?

Yang chuckled lowly, shaking the blushing Faunus against her chest in the process. "Gotcha."

"Pervert."

"Look, Blake didn't react to my last innuendo, so I had to be a little more overt with this one."

"Degenerate."

"Yang, just…why?"

"Immoral."

"It's my job to push your buttons. That's why."

"Animal."

Yang winked. "Only in the right context, baby."

" _Stop_ ," pleaded Blake. "Please, Yang. Be decent."

"Fine, fine. I'll stop." She snickered quietly at Weiss' sick expression but gently combed her fingers through Blake's hair. "For now."

The hold Weiss had on Ruby visibly weakened. She was flustered, and it was understandable because Blake was, too. Although that joke was indeed one Yang _would_ make, and although it was nothing particularly new, the "overt" nature of it… It was more than a little uncomfortable. Blake was not ready to speak publically of their…intimacy just yet—or at all, really. Even the thought of sharing that information was just too much. Weiss did not need to know, and, more than that, Yang did not need to say these sorts of things with Ruby in the car. It was upsetting, at least to the degrees of burning cheeks and weakened holds that would let Ruby's head fall and rest against Weiss' neck.

Sensing the embarrassment on the air, Yang wistfully mused, "Oh, to be nineteen again…"

"We're both older than you, Yang," Blake tried, closing her eyes and trying to reclaim that previous moment of peace.

"And you're still eighteen," added Weiss.

" _Oh, to be nineteen_ …"

"I'm turning the radio on." Impatient, Weiss looked away and dealt with her armrest, which held a water-filled carafe and a half-empty glass and as well the radio's dials on its front. From speakers hidden somewhere in the cabin, the low murmur of a Christmas chorus washed away the bumpy sounds of travel. Weiss, being distasteful of this song or its singers—Blake could not tell, nor did she care to—turned the station to some deeper-voiced singer, still singing the Christmas songs she eventually resigned to. Blake, meanwhile, let the song and silence be background noise, focusing instead of the soft thumps of Yang's heart against her ear.

They were on the road now, and that was the important part. What road they were on or what traffic lay ahead hardly mattered. All Blake knew, and all she cared to know, was that she had about fifty minutes to relax in a half-asleep daze. Actual sleep would be left for the airship.

From the hug Blake was kept in, one hand rose to brush her hair. It was a simple action. A slothful action. But Blake breathed easy, glad that hand meant the stress was over. Well, mostly over. There was still that plane ride, then customs, then Atlas, then…

Was Yang sleeping?

The lulling heartbeat had slowed alongside the rise and fall of its owner's chest. Her breathing was deep, and her auric warmth was building to that easy, continuous flow that it usually gained in the night, but still the coarse fingers ran through Blake's hair. A short exhale and a small shake of Yang's head showed that she was not, in fact, asleep. She was just…almost sleeping. How restful that must have been.

"When we arrive at the airport," Weiss began, eyes trained on Blake, whose one open eye now looked at the girl in white, "I will give you your passports. They're in my bag, and, in our rush, I forgot to take them out."

"That's all right," Blake replied, her words all sighs. "Just so long as we can get through customs."

"We will. There's nothing illegal about these—you three all have legitimate Vale passports. The trouble is that my father had to expedite the process here and then remove your name from the Foreign Ministry's blacklist." Weiss smirked. Despite her outwardly wry expression, she still held Ruby with her own two-handed side hug and Blake knew she was just joking. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been, convincing Atlas to let a known terrorist into my home."

"And I can't imagine they knew my real name."

"No, of course not. You terrorist types are always so secretive with your cell structures, coded transmissions, and _incredibly_ original aliases. Isn't that right, Miss _Midnight Shadow_?"

Blake was torn between shrinking into herself and chuckling. She chose instead to groan.

"You had to be, what, thirteen when you were last in Atlas?"

"Fourteen."

"Well, I see your sense of creativity didn't change in that year."

"It was just a phase."

It was then that Weiss gave this little, introspective smirk. She laughed under her breath and looked disbelievingly at the Faunus. She was enjoying this. But her enjoyment was not predatory. No, conversations were not games to Weiss Schnee, nor had they ever been; conversations were modes of gathering information and, whether positively or negatively, influencing goodwill. Now she understood something, hence the smirk, and her laugh conveyed something more…human. Were Blake the optimist Yang wanted her to be, she could have taken this laugh for granted, as though it had only been mirthful. But there was rue behind it, cynicism.

But, considering the circumstance, now was not the time for interrogation. Therefore, Blake shook her head, responding to Weiss' joke and nuzzling into Yang's chest at the same time. "Don't act like _you_ didn't go through a phase."

"Oh, I went through many. There were the rebellious years, the religious experimentation year, the wistful look-out-my-window-and-dream-of-a-continental-life years. And then there were the fairy princess years."

"Fairy princess."

"When a girl grows up with limited social outlets, a growing imagination, and a family whose associates and clientele frequently test dust applications around her, the profession of 'fairy princess' couldn't have seemed unreasonable. Also, I was six."

An image of a younger Weiss, imperious as ever yet with a magic wand in hand, popped into Blake's head. But then, alongside one oddity, so too did another appear. With her one opened eye, Blake squinted. "Why are you telling me this?"

There was that smirk again. And that laugh. "Honestly…I'm tired? I don't know what to tell you. I'm half-asleep, in a relatively good mood, but I'd like to stay awake. It makes the impending… _Atlas_ all the more manageable."

"You haven't had coffee yet, have you?"

"No, but that's beside the point. I'm trying to open up to you, Blake, before I shut down."

"Shut down?"

"Oh, I can already feel it coming on." Turning her blue eyes to the rear window, Weiss sighed. "When we arrive on Kaiser Island, and even as we near it, you'll find that the Weiss you know now is different from the Weiss you will see. Sure, I'm not being my regular self right now, either, but…consider this some method of self-preservation. Once we get to Kaiser Island, I'll be far too preoccupied to be me, so I'm making up for lost time ahead of time."

Blake nearly questioned this frankness more, but she bit her tongue. Weiss may or may not have been lying about her excuse—honestly, Blake thought the girl was just plain nervous and needed someone to talk to—but the fact remained that she was reaching out for a friend. And Blake would not deny Weiss that. No matter what trials they would have to face in Atlas, Team RWBY would need to face them as a team of friends.

"I suppose," Blake accepted. "It's very self-aware of you, though."

"Well, I certainly don't _feel_ very self-aware right now." Weiss shook her head, too, her smirk rising for a brief moment before falling away to her tiredness. "And I was joking about that terrorist comment, by the way. Your name was cleared from the Foreign Ministry's watchlist, so you should have no problem walking through the international terminal. Atlas will greet you with open arms."

"We'll see about that."

"Agreed."

The two then let the stillness consume their conversation. Caught amid the low rush of heater air, the light melody of a Christmas song, and the steady, slow thumps of Yang's beating heart, Blake could not help but rest again. Weiss, likewise, continued to stare out the back window and the frigid sky beyond, resting her chin on Ruby's head.

However, as Blake's body began to relax in preparation for sleep, her mind began to wander back to the newly ended conversation. Weiss was still nervous. There was a lot she was not telling anybody, and she did not trust anyone with a complete picture. And she was looking out at the receding Vale outskirts as though she wanted to flee. She had opened up to Blake, and so it was the Faunus' duty to help mend the current wound.

She opened her eye again. "Hey."

Weiss looked over, even in expression.

"It's going to be okay. We're going to get through this together."

"Sure," Weiss responded, frustratingly noncommittal. "That would be nice."

"We're a team, Weiss. It _is_ nice. When you need us, we will be there to help you. And we will be there to help each other, too. No one's getting hurt."

"I appreciate it, Blake, for what it's worth. Thank you."

And then that was it. Weiss turned back to the rear window and continued to stare, avoiding help. This passed her nervousness on to Blake.

* * *

Airports were disingenuous. Every one. No matter how brilliant the floors or how polished the shops, Weiss always felt disgusted by the thought of tripping and falling and pressing her hand or face against these laminate floors. Countless shoes had walked across them, and their owners could hardly care for all the time they spent here before departing for somewhere else. Vale International Airport, no matter how clean and friendly it made itself out to be, was nothing more than a happy, squealing, gilded pig. Every airport was.

Similarly happy, squealing, and golden, Ruby and Yang had rushed ahead. Though, it is to say that they were only _similarly_ happy, squealing, and golden; they were nowhere near as energetic as the airport always was, but Ruby was alert and Yang was entertaining her. But, like pigs, they also tolerated this filth.

"I think they want to get breakfast," said Blake.

Two sets of heels clicked side by side, Weiss looking over at the Faunus, who seemed less at ease than her awakened teammates yet still more nonchalant than Weiss anticipated. There were very few people here at this hour—security at their recently passed checkpoint had been reduced to but one line, and the guard there had been about to doze off before the group of four arrived. Weiss knew Blake did not like crowds—something about the White Fang and mistakes thereof—so it was fortunate that one did not exist here. Nevertheless, the mistake that led Blake to avoid crowds could not hold a candle to the dread she should be feeling at the meeting of her organization's ultimate adversary. She _should_ have been feeling dread, at any rate. As it was, she appeared not to.

Weiss exhaled, voicing her disinterest. "They can do what they want. But I suggest you get breakfast, too. Our seats should come with a meal, but…I wouldn't count on it."

"Do _you_ want anything?"

"Something strong to wake me up. Then something stronger to knock me out."

The conversation petered out after that. Though, Blake did, for a moment, reveal that smug-ish smirk she always revealed right before she made a joke. But this never amounted to anything; she simply kept the words to herself. That was perfectly fine.

Ruby and Yang stopped ahead, Yang looking like she couldn't wait for Blake and Weiss to catch up and Ruby looking like she wanted to tell Weiss, specifically, something. Neither girl wasted any time with this. Yang smiled in tandem with Ruby's saying, "Do you guys think we could pick up something on the way? Like, a bagel or something?"

"I tried to tell her," Yang said, shaking her head, "but she wouldn't hear it from me. Maybe you could tell her, Weiss, that there aren't any drive-throughs in the air."

Ruby frowned at her. "Hey! I meant on the way to our flight! And the only thing you tried to tell me was that you didn't wanna fly on an empty stomach!"

"Whoops. Must have slipped my mind."

This pause had allowed Weiss and Blake to catch up. The latter was amused, as she so frequently appeared to be around the sisters' antics, and the former could not claim to be much different. Certainly, Weiss was more frequently _annoyed_ by the sisters' antics, but she did have to smile now at the position Yang had put Ruby in. Somehow, that girl was their leader.

"Sure," she said to Ruby. "I don't know if you will find a place that's open right now, but if you do, all I really care for is a coffee. But if you can't find a place that's open, you can always find a vending machine."

"And from that you'd want…?"

"To make our flight."

"Oh. Well, okay! Yang? You wanna come?"

The blonde did not need to say anything, turning a bit as she smiled. Blake, similarly, moved to stand beside the sisters, intending to go, too. At times, she and Yang could seem inseparable, and that was fine enough for them. Weiss had given up on being anything but congratulatory for them; criticism and happiness meant little when the couple acted heedlessly of others' opinions. Weiss saw the smiles they gave each other—like those they gave each other now—that were small conversations wrapped in a glance, and it was good for them that they had found what they had, especially considering where they had come from. But still. This present circumstance left Ruby, Yang, and Blake to go find breakfast while Weiss, whose limbs hung heavily and urged her to sit down, was alone.

She stopped her thoughts there. She wanted to sleep, sure, but she could not let herself be tired. Not yet. She looked at the three girls who awaited her approval…or something and said to the older two, "Don't be late. We're at gate twenty-seven, and you have twenty-five minutes. Which means you should be back in fifteen."

"Twenty-seven, twenty-five, fifteen, seven o'clock." Yang smirked. "Have any more numbers?"

"Don't be late," the heiress replied curtly, cutting this joking mood off before it could flourish. "You won't get a second chance, and I _will_ leave without you."

"Oh, but you'd miss us!"

Glaring, Weiss realized Yang would not be reasonable. As such, she turned to Blake. "Please don't be late. You know where our gate is, yes?"

"I do," the Faunus said. "And we won't be late. I'll make sure of it."

At this, Weiss nodded and wordlessly resumed her path forward. Ruby had said something about seeing her in a bit, but the heiress' mind was preoccupied. She kept forward, listening to the _clicks_ and _clomps_ of the trio's shoes as they moved in the opposite direction, and looked ahead to gate twenty-seven, which was perhaps only thirty meters away.

None of them would miss this flight. Weiss knew it, and she understood that Yang, despite being unpunctual and generally irresponsible, did not have it in her to miss something so important. Ruby and Blake were even less likely to miss it. Yet still the heiress insisted that they make it to the gate early. Whether this was due to concern or control, she did not know. Maybe she just did not want to be alone right now. Walking through this hall without the weight of those three invitations was far and away more preferable than walking with them, but it was weird. This flight to Atlas and the Schnee Gala and all the resulting turmoil thereof was real and at the forefront of her mind, but without some constant reminder of its realness looming over her, Weiss felt like she was in freefall. She knew she was falling, but she felt weightless. It was a dangerous feeling.

At the gate's boarding desk stood two attendants—initially a pair not worthy of note, but their glance up at the heiress lasted just long enough for it to be more than curious. They knew who this girl with white hair and fashion was. And, to Weiss, their gazes burned. At one point, she would have prided her celebrity status, being a lonely girl with a world at her feet, begging to be her friend, but now the two sets of eyes stung with the judgement they probably did not hold. "Why is this Schnee returning home not two weeks before Christmas, as would be proper, but only a little over one?" they would ask. "And who are these three travelling with her?"

Weiss realized she had been standing around, staring at the flight attendants as they awkwardly stared back at her. She released a held breath, shook her head, and moved diagonal to them, entering the gate lounge but doing her best to communicate disinterest for conversation.

The area was quiet, grey, and only a few people waited here. A family—seemingly, tourists bound for a white Christmas—occupied the four seats nearest to the jetway, and they were all smiles and jackets, ready for the cold. But Weiss knew the cold they were after and pitied them somewhat. She did hope for the best, but, realistically, the family would enjoy the food and snow for a couple days, realize that Atlas winters offered nothing but business, and then return home with a new perspective on the things they had hoped would be beautiful. Weiss passed this family and a couple single travelers and found herself an empty area, setting her duffle bag down and taking a seat across from a large window that displayed the tarmac beyond.

Team RWBY's tickets were in her hand. Everyone had their passports. The luggage was with Yang. The airship was docked and being prepared. The assistants had all returned to their Vale lodgings. And now all Weiss had to do was wait. In a matter of minutes, she and her girlfriend and a brute and a Faunus would all embark upon a nonstop flight to a place where Weiss could not be herself. She hated how few options this left her.

Alone, she yawned. She had better things to worry about than how the flight attendants had or had not looked at her or how regretful it was that this trip was even happening. Those were things of the past—unchangeable things. What she needed to worry about, if anything at all, was her team's punctuality and her father's reaction to them.

Her father. The man was most certainly not one to make friends, and the tabloids did get this part right about him. Yet where the tabloids were mistaken was in his social disposition. One could neither keep afloat their millennia-old reputation nor maintain successful connections across the globe on brute force alone. No, Otto, like Weiss, could be brusque and lording and prideful to a fault, but he would fall on his sword before showing dishonor or disloyalty—not only to Atlas but to those whom he had been given his word.

He would hate Yang. He would hate everything about that flippant, optimistic, and mannerless blonde just like Weiss had in her first year at Beacon. And, like Weiss, he would continue to despise these aspects of Yang, but, at the same time, he would come to accept them and move on. As for Ruby, Weiss could not see her father giving the girl a second thought but to wonder how she, of all people, had become leader of Team RWBY. Their personalities would surely clash, even more fundamentally than Weiss' clashed with Ruby's. But, thankfully, Ruby was still a child, and Otto was not one to begrudge youth. Really, Weiss' concerns rested mostly in herself, Yang, and Blake. Not only was Blake a Faunus, and not only was she a former officer of the White Fang, she would be a reserved girl in a setting where sociality was required, and she would as well be a special guest of Weiss. This would bring her—and her ears and past—under public scrutiny.

The heiress sighed and looked out at the tarmac. The airships were touching down and taking off, slowly and with large glass panes shielding Weiss from the expected noise. Hers would depart, and soon her team would actually meet her family. She honestly did not know how this would turn out. Perhaps there would be a fight—perhaps even a physical one, if Weiss knew the fighters' tempers well enough. Tradition would meet youthful unawareness, creating unwinnable contentions; modernity would meet antiquated subtleties, causing confusion and offense; and self-righteousness would meet self-righteousness. There was bound to be a clash of some sort.

Right as the heiress' shoulders began to slump, both out of mournful resignation and general tiredness, they tensed again. She nearly jumped out of her seat when she realized her team was standing behind her. Of course, she would not have jumped had her team simply _been there_ ; she jumped because of the unexpected lips pressed suddenly—and publically!—against her cheek. This was followed by a hug.

"Weiss!" cheered Ruby quietly, as if she had been gone a while. Of course, she was probably just bragging on some level about how awake she finally was. "I got you some coffeeee! And some aspirin. Blake told me to get it for you so you wouldn't be grumpy."

It took a moment to shake off Ruby and the effect of her kiss—luckily, it seemed that no one in the waiting area had enough energy to be remotely curious, so embarrassment was at a minimum—but the young girl continued to cling to Weiss, who turned and looked accusingly at the Faunus. _Grumpy_? But Blake did not look guilty. She was annoyed, not even looking at Ruby as she shook her head. Weiss let that matter go.

On the other side of the heiress, Yang walked over and took a seat, leaving Blake to check her scroll. The blonde offered a small white bottle, rattling the contents within. "It's some more ibuprofen, not aspirin. Thought we could save the stuff we packed for an emergency."

"Thank you," said Weiss. She had meant to say this to both sisters and with a genuine tone, but neither seemed to work. She simply took the bottle from Yang and the coffee from Ruby and gave them their boarding passes in exchange, earning another peck from the latter—who then went over to talk with Blake—and began her preemptive medication. She did not like the idea much, but she did share her teammate's worries over headaches. Plus, the coffee felt normal.

Throughout the terminal, intercoms whispered their garbled messages beneath the overbearing sound of heels upon taps upon heels upon taps as businesspeople, who Weiss scornfully assumed were used to this hour, disappeared down the concourse. Were she able to, Weiss would block out all these sounds and retreat into herself. Unfortunately, she had to keep an ear out for their boarding call because Yang would not catch it and Blake was preoccupied with Ruby. Such was why Weiss did what she could. She sipped at her coffee and fixed her eyes almost glaringly on the orange sun that crested the hills beyond the window. But as Yang sat beside her, posture relaxed and arm resting in the seat behind the heiress, Weiss felt like saying something. She did not want to, and she certainly did not want to be friendly with Yang, of all people—because that only resulted in further enmity and good-natured gibes—but she did not want to be rude, either.

"We should be boarding any minute now."

Yang never even glanced at Weiss. She simply watched the sunrise, too. "Look, if you don't want to talk, don't. I can tell you're forcing it. And, honestly, I don't wanna draw more attention to how little my brain is working right now." She stopped herself there, winced, and continued, "But if you need to talk about something, go on. I'd prefer you didn't keep your big secrets to yourself."

Weiss sighed. "There are no secrets. Not yet, at any rate."

"Good. Just let us know when we're walking into a trap."

"I did. Look where that got us."

Eyes still on the horizon, Yang chuckled lowly. For a moment, Weiss was confused, not intending her words to be a joke, but she came to accept the humor in them. Neither girl said another word from that point, contented by the de-stressing silence they shared.

The intercom clicked on above them. "Now boarding executive and priority members for Flight 109 to Schlosshafen. Now boarding executive and priority members."

"That's us," Weiss said.

"Wait. We're not going to Atlas City?"

The heiress looked at the blonde, not quite understanding where this question was coming from. "Kaiser Island is an island, and Atlas isn't on the coast."

"And why isn't our flight going straight to Kaiser Island?"

Weiss shook this off with a sigh, standing and placing the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "It doesn't matter." Unfortunately, this was met with a look that asked if Weiss had even paid attention to the conversation. "Fine. If you must know, it's because the island doesn't have a landing pad big enough to land a passenger airship. Now, can we please get moving?"

Yang threw her hands up in half-resignation. "All right. Let's go." She stood, too, making a strained noise as she did so, and, looking over to Blake and Ruby, called, "Hey, tall, short, and edgy! We're moving out!"

"What'd you call us?" Ruby responded, seemingly peeved.

But that did not matter. Still bracing for the pain about to hit her, Weiss focused on the gate, hoping her team would follow as she made her way over. Her boarding pass was scanned with a familiar "Welcome aboard, Miss Schnee," and the heiress, nodding, made her way onto the jetway ramp, walking behind two lone businessmen with similar cups of coffee. Thankfully, she could hear her teammates' conversation following her. She did not care what they were talking about—though, she did catch a remark from Ruby about not liking her bagel—but was, admittedly, glad they had agreed to come along.

They would be safer in Vale, and, for their sakes, Weiss did not want them to come. But at the same time, she did not want to go through the upcoming ordeal alone. She had barely convinced her father to let her attend Beacon in the first place, and now that he had doubts, she would need her team to convince him that staying would be worthwhile.

No. Not now. Now Weiss _had_ to focus on the flight. No more what-ifs and what-could-bes. At least not until she was in Atlas. She sipped her coffee and struggled to tune out her team, giving a halfhearted smile to the attendant at the end of the jetway as she entered the airship.

Whereas the airships to and from Beacon were designed with a similar layout to busses and larger public transportation, this airship's interior was designed like a train's. The lower level was made up of four breadthwise rows of seats—most facing the same direction, but there were more than a few pairs that faced each other and the table between them. However, these were not Weiss' destination. Hers was the chrome-railed staircase in the center of the cabin. She moved with the businessmen before her and the teammates behind her up these stairs, arriving at a hallway lined with doors on either side.

A second attendant waited at the top of the staircase, intending to aid Weiss in finding her seat, but the heiress waved her off—hopefully polite. She was not a veteran flyer, due in large to her disdain for high altitudes, but she knew where she sat. She always picked the same seat.

As Team RWBY murmured behind her about the bar and buffet situated on the opposite side of the staircase, Weiss kept her gaze trained on the hallway ahead and on the gradually easing feeling of the ibuprofen. Sipping her coffee, she adjusted the bag on her shoulder and approached the final door on the right.

"Cool!" said Ruby, finishing her bagel. "So, we have, like, cabins?"

"Seems like it," Yang answered. "It'll probably make it easier for us to sleep. I think. I dunno. I think I'm just looking forward to that."

She was not alone in that thinking. But Weiss never said that. Instead, she peered through the window of her cabin, checking to make sure no one had wrongly claimed it, and, deciding that everything was in working order, entered the room.

The girls were quick to pile in, the sisters taking in everything, from the folded-up, wall-mounted beds on either side to the large window that was the back wall, while Blake and Weiss each moved in their own disinterested ways. Weiss turned her attention to the two seats on her left and the pair of passkeys thereupon. Pocketing one, she turned around and extended the other to Blake.

"Here," she offered. But her effort was in vain. Blake stood beside Yang, and the two, along with Ruby, were lost in their collective gaze out the window. Weiss watched along with them for a moment, finding that the bustling tarmac beyond was probably more occupied than the terminal they had just left, but she quickly turned back to Blake, clearing her throat. The Faunus started a bit at this but calmly faced Weiss, an eyebrow raised. "Here," the heiress offered again. "This will let you and the others back into the room if you need to leave."

"Thanks," was all Blake said before she glanced out the window once more and sat down, taking her spot on the chairs opposite Weiss. Weiss mirrored this motion, setting her bag on the ground and letting her back melt into the cushions behind her. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing.

"When are we taking off?"

"Soon, Ruby," said Blake.

"Yeah, there's no need to rush." Yang let herself fall into the seat beside Blake, rocking the room. "I think Weiss would blow a gasket if anything about this was rushed." But Weiss did not answer. Yang was probably right, but responding was not worth the energy right now. Instead, the heiress took a sip of her coffee and tuned her ears to the hiss of the air conditioner above. "See? Total panic mode."

"Aw, it's gonna be okay, Weiss." The cushions to Weiss' side shifted somewhat as Ruby sat down. The young girl continued to croon, "We're gonna have a great Christmas, and there's nothing Atlas can do to stop us."

She was probably wrong. But the enthusiasm was admirable.

Honestly, Weiss wanted to believe Ruby, and she did her best to hold on to whatever certainties there were in her partner's assurance—the positivity, the energy, the hope—but silence was her only response to all of that. Would Christmas turn out well? Perhaps. Would the gala? Logistically, yes. For Weiss, no. Her team was going to be wrapped up in all the trappings of a father whose will was iron and of a series of expectations that demanded much and too often contradicted themselves. Weiss felt Ruby's head come to rest on her shoulder, a low laugh escaping the girl's lips, and all the heiress could do was hold on to that sound.

More passengers boarded, their sparse clamor a whisper from beyond the door and the hall and the stairwell. Weiss relaxed her shoulders, trying to sink into the grey seat behind her and letting time spent waiting and time spent flying become one and the same. She focused on Ruby. The young girl was warm, her head falling gently against Weiss' neck. Her hair tickled what little collar was showing beneath Weiss' overcoat and her arm now rested across Weiss' waist. This was really happening. Otto would meet Ruby—Ruby would meet Otto. It terrified Weiss. Moreover, Yang and Blake would meet Otto, too—one vocal about her distrust of high society and the other likely fearing for her life. But it was not the probabilities and expected interactions that scared Weiss the most. No, this was Team RWBY—what scared her were the uncertainties.

The intercom crackled on, some flight attendant starting his pre-flight greeting. Weiss could feel Ruby move on her shoulder, revealing her second ear to pay attention. But Weiss just kept sipping on her coffee, eyes closed, ears tuned out.

"Did you hear that? It's way below freezing in Atlas!"

Blake and Yang had begun chatting quietly between themselves, leaving this observation to Weiss. Thankfully, the ibuprofen was beginning to take effect. "Yes, Ruby, I heard," lied the heiress. "It's winter. It's _always_ freezing."

"Oh. Well. Still. You think there's gonna be snow?"

"Probably."

"And what about on the island?"

"It will be even colder."

"Man." Ruby returned to Weiss' shoulder. She took a deep, excited breath. "I can't wait."

The arm around Weiss' waist then pulled her into something of a hug. She did not reciprocate but allowed herself to lean into the embrace. At first, it had been for Ruby's sake, but, like most of Ruby's hugs, Weiss quickly found her own comfort in it. Mostly, she figured, it had to do with her girlfriend's zealous nuzzling and the clear attempt—and just as clear failing—of strength in her grip. The buzzing, humming aura that often came with Ruby's cheer washed over Weiss, and as the heiress let go of her frustrated aversion to this closeness, the grip on her coffee began to relax. She allowed her head to rest on top of Ruby's, and even her headache-forced scowl flattened to serene impassivity.

She opened her eyes again. Blake and Yang were lying against each other, apparently ready to sleep. The flow of boarding passengers downstairs had come to a stop, and now Weiss could hear faint sounds of carryon luggage being stuffed into bins. But even that was fading.

The intercom crackled on again, bringing with it the safety-focused speech that let Weiss know they were about ready to take off. As soon as it was over, she tried to listen for any other noise throughout the airship and found nothing but the hissing air conditioner and the low thrum of the engines warming up elsewhere. She set her coffee down in the cup holder beside her, wriggled in her seat a bit as she tried to make her back more comfortable, and allowed one of her hands to find a resting place on Ruby's forearm. Weiss could practically feel the girl's smile on the air.

Eventually, she would feel the soft yet sudden pressure of the airship pushing off. After that, the downward force became steady yet present—like an elevator going up but with a pronouncedly faster sensation. And all the while, Ruby's attention would pique. Weiss could not fault her for being excited—sure, she could claim her partner naïve and credulous of the hidden dangers yet to come, but, at the very least, she was happy to travel.

Weiss was hugged tighter, and she leaned into that embrace even more. She just had to remember that Ruby was with her—that _RWBY_ was with her. If she could not find solace looking to her own future, she could at least find warmth here. This would not be as bad as she expected; this trip and the eventual meeting and all the events surrounding it would more than likely go smoothly, and, in retrospect, she would probably prove overanxious. Or so she hoped. With caffeine coursing through her, she might only have time for a nap midway through the flight, but, for now, she would continue to let Ruby hold her. As Blake and Yang slept, Weiss would focus on the things that could never be taken away, even if her father said otherwise, and relax in their presence.

* * *

The town of Schlosshafen was small, quiet, but fundamentally Atlas. It was certainly no capital metropole—being the kingdom's second most important port but also being smaller by many magnitudes to Atlas City—but even from the airport's arrivals terminal, Blake could see gleaming, grey office buildings rise three or four stories above their snowy and cottage-dotted surroundings. Likewise, the road outside the terminal was fairly busy with practiced, meticulous drivers, and this road extended out into the often-white, sometimes-grey snowscape and towards that cluster of offices and homes. Yet of higher priority than these buildings or this snow or the inevitable meeting of Weiss' family, at least in Blake's mind, were those looming, cloud-covered, horizon-consuming mountains.

The Äshchernen Berge. Blake had spent far too much of her childhood training to cross those mountains, conquer the stronghold within, and cut off the logistic and economic head of anti-Faunus campaigning. But now she was _here_ , for the second time in her life, and everything she had prepared for—all the crags and crevasses and passes that would lead her previous team to achieve its goal—vanished. Having since lost her drive to rebel, all she could do was stare in quiet awe.

Yang's boots made a crunching sound as she moved beside her partner, now standing on salt and melting ice. Blake's eyes did not relent from the rolling, faraway clouds, but she could see puffs of steam in her peripheral. "Huh," began Yang, sounding bemused. "I don't know what I was expecting from Atlas, but…like…that's a lot of snow."

It took a few moments for Blake to blink and tear her gaze away from the mountains. When she did, though, she found Yang smiling at her. "What do _you_ think?" the blonde asked.

Bundled up in her leather jacket, a charcoal scarf, and jeans she had wrongly assumed to be adequate, Blake could not shake this new kind of cold. It felt at first manageable, but then it felt pervadingly wet—as though she had walked out into a puddle and splashed herself from head to toe—despite being completely dry. The air felt like it was melting and then freezing over again. Moreover, the scent on the chilling wind was strikingly different, more salt—from both the harbor and the pavement—and gasoline—no, diesel—than she was used to in Vale. But the place was…exactly what it was. It was efficient, practiced, and economical, and Blake could practically smell it.

"I don't know," she said, clenching her fists in her jacket pockets. "Honestly, I'd like to get out of the cold before making that decision."

Yang smirked. "Fair enough. Weiss' driver should be here any minute."

Beneath Blake's bow—which was, as she quickly learned, dreadfully thin in this biting climate—ears twitched in the direction of the automatic doors sliding open behind her. With a series of quick, heavy rattles, the luggage cart was pushed out onto the sidewalk. Ruby was having little trouble with all of their belongings, grinning widely despite her strain because she was finally in Atlas.

Silver eyes were wide, subjected to an apparent paradox of emotions. Yes, she was excited, moving quickly out of the airport, even rushing past Atlesian passengers who had to dodge huffingly out of the way, but she was also clearly in over her head. Her fingers gripped the metal cart just a little too tightly, the clouds of breath coming from her nose were fragmented and harsh, and, most apparent of all, the girl was shivering. Nevertheless, she cheered, "We made it guys! _Atlas_!"

"Only on technicality," quipped Weiss from behind her, short-tempered due to either the weather or her new headache—or both. In fact, she seemed worse off than Ruby, ducking her hands and chin as far into her coat as she could. "And don't act like this is any sort of destination. It's Schlosshafen; if anything, it's a midpoint."

"But Weiss! _Atlas_!"

Choosing not to follow this line of conversation further, Weiss shuffled over to stand between Blake and Yang—probably for the same reason Ruby did the same.

"So, when's our ride getting here?" Yang asked.

"No clue," said Weiss, calm despite her discomfort. "If you'd like to retrieve my scroll from my pocket and call, be my guest. But as it is, our driver should be coming shortly."

Yang looked down at the heiress, who would not look back at her, smirking. She glanced up at Blake, looked down at Weiss for a second, took another second to make a show of mulling an idea over, and at last drawled, "Hey, Ruby."

"Yup?"

"Why don't you let me take care of the cart?" The blonde glanced up at her partner again, knowing. "You and Weiss are freezing, and I think Weiss needs a hug. You know, body heat and stuff."

Whether it was her affection for Weiss, her quality as a leader, her obligation to listen to her older sister, or her unhidden need to be warm, Ruby dropped what she was doing and attached herself to Weiss' side, their cheeks soon pressed together. "You're so _cold_!" Ruby winced, holding to Weiss despite this and the unthankful frown she was given.

Blake, meanwhile, could not help but smile. Weiss had pulled her and Yang aside to make sure this very thing would not happen—no public displays of affection from Ruby when it was likely Weiss' father would see—but now Weiss made no move to reject the embrace. For the sake of posture, she had to act as though she were rejecting it, but everything about her body language seemed to melt into the side-hug she was given. Her glare softened, her shoulders began to slump, and her breaths came steadily.

But what came next brought her composure back in full, as misplaced oddities tend to do.

From the frosted metal awning above came a bird, its wings fluttering only a few times as it made the eight-or-so-foot drop onto one of the bollards that protected pedestrians from drivers. The snow-white bird looked out at the passing cars for a moment, patient in its curiosity, before hopping once to spin around. Its beady black eyes regarded the group of four, head tilting and straightening up again. It squawked.

Team RWBY stared at the bird for as long as it stared back at them. Eventually, Yang broke formation and took a step forward, earning her another head tilt but no backwards movement. She stepped forward again and yet again, and nothing was done except another realignment of the bird's posture. Blake watched as her partner extended a hand above the bird. Slowly, Yang, expression flat and dutiful, lowered her hand onto the bird's head. "Seagull," she said with two clear syllables, patting the bird with each one, making its head bob accordingly. She withdrew her hand, the seagull blinked, paused, and, with another squawk, fluttered away.

Yang's flat expression became a beam. "Well, at least the locals are friendly!" she joked, turning to her friends.

"I'm sure it just wanted food, Yang," Blake offered.

"Yeah. And I gave it some sugar."

Blake's ears had been expecting a scoff from Weiss, but it was a scoff that never came. When the Faunus looked over at the heiress, quietly hoping for the usual criticism of Yang's antics, she did find a glare pointed at the blonde. But it was a glare hidden behind Ruby's wind-whipped bangs, the younger girl paying more attention to her hug than the world around her. As such, all Weiss could do was give Yang cause to laugh at her own joke and feel happier for causing this disdain. Blake, meanwhile, allowed herself a smirk.

The four stood this way for about a minute more before Blake felt her ears try to move. She suppressed the motion, of course, but let her attention be pulled in the direction her hearing had been taking her. A seeming replica of the limousine Team RWBY had used in Vale was approaching, slowing over a couple speedbumps on its way to the terminal but coming nonetheless as a relief to the freezing four.

Inside the vehicle was a driver that did not look too different from the ones Blake had seen in Vale. But something about his gaze was different. It was as bleak as the surroundings, focused to a point, and ultimately chilling in its unwillingness to move. The breaks made no noise as the car rolled up, the engine being its only part to sound alongside this windy walkway. The driver did not shift his gaze, putting the limousine in park.

Immediately, Ruby detached from Weiss and practically dove for the nearest door. "Ah!" she shouted, yanking in vain at the pull handle. "The door's locked! Weiss! Fix it! _Fix it_!"

The driver shifted in his seat, opening his door first and then pressing a button on its interior, causing a quiet _thunk_ that granted Ruby her entry. As the young girl rushed into the warmer, dryer cabin, heedless of her teammates' patience, the driver stood. At first, he looked at the remaining three from the corner of his eye. Then, returning his gaze forward and moving to the vehicle's trunk, opening it with no ceremony whatsoever, he returned to face the trio in full.

"Your bags, please."

In Vale, this had been an offer. The assistants had been distant, most certainly, but they were also amenable to common courtesy. Here, however, Blake was not certain if the driver's words had been a suggestion or a command—or a bit of both.

She kept her suspicion in check, though, and moved to pick her things out of the luggage cart. But Yang beat her to it. "No worries, babe. I got you." Heedless as ever to the idea of mutual help, that blonde took hold of the cart and pushed it off the curb and to the limousine's trunk. Blake would have to talk to her about this, but eventually and at a place where the weather was warmer and where Blake's fingers were less likely to freeze off.

Hearing Yang's intent, the driver turned around and wordlessly headed back to his seat, shutting the door behind him. Seeing his brusqueness, Weiss entered the vehicle with a low sigh.

"Go on!" Yang encouraged the Faunus, who was still standing beside her. With the heiress out of view, all Blake could do was be shooed away and watch Yang offload their baggage. "I'll be with you guys in a minute. Then we can, I don't know, see the sights." She hefted a bag into the trunk.

Something was amiss. Maybe with Yang, maybe with Atlas, maybe with Blake, herself. But regardless of her hunch's cause, Blake felt on edge and hesitated to get in the limousine—a Schnee vehicle in Atlas. Yang's gaze was on the next bag, and then the next bag after that, so talking this hesitation out with her would be impossible right now. Blake sighed and moved to enter but found herself repulsed by the entryway. She could see Weiss glaring through the open doorway, and this caused Blake to turn around, looking back at the terminal.

Flying back was not an option anymore. No, even the notion was ridiculous. Blake's problem was not fear. Everything just seemed wrong. It was as though her teammates had voluntarily stepped in bear traps and were now inviting her to do the same. Blake's problem was not Faunus rights or illegal entrances or even what she had assumed to be a prejudicial glance from the driver. Blake was, to the people of Atlas, and especially to the people of Kaiser Island, a member of the White Fang—a group that had publically denounced the Schnee family and had been televised as terrorists—even if she had quit the group a couple years ago. The Schnees were a family whose power derived from their lineage; Blake, however, had given up her lineage and changed her life's direction multiple times. That she was being invited with supposedly open arms into the Schnees' house was…just wrong.

But it was also real.

Sooner or later, she would have to realize that the Schnees were allies and that the White Fang was nothing more than a dark stain on her past. Sooner or later, she would have to let go. She knew it, and she was prepared to do so for Weiss' sake. She would do it for Ruby's and Yang's sakes, too. It just hurt. Seventeen years of misguided learning was telling her to go back to Vale, but two days' worth of preparation was telling her to get in the car.

"Hey."

Blake was shook from her hesitations by a hand on her shoulder. She turned, removing herself from the hand and finding its owner, who raised an eyebrow. Yang had finished putting their belongings in the trunk and had even put the luggage cart away. Now she was standing at her partner's side, visibly concerned.

"You have that look on your face that tells me we need to talk."

"No," the Faunus shook her head, sighing. "Don't worry about it. It's—"

"Remember the last time we had these kinds of looks and answered everything with, 'It's fine'? Because that wasn't exactly fine." She tried putting her hand on her partner again, and Blake would have lied if she said it was unwelcome. The girl in black did hang her head, though, ashamed now on top of fretful of her stormy emotions. But Yang shook her head, shrugging with a laugh. "Look. You don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to. I'm just worried about you, kitten. Now, if you're willing to compromise with me and head this 'fine' business off at the pass, do me a favor: use the limo ride to calm down, and when we get to where we're going, tell me something—anything that's on your mind."

It was easier said than done. Knowing what Atlas and Otto had done and what the White Fang did back—and this sudden Christmas travel…

"Okay," Blake ceded. She looked back up at her partner, looking her in the eye as she spoke. At the very least, the task Yang set for her would keep these unhelpful thoughts occupied. "I'll try. And we _will_ talk. I just…"

When Yang was able to infer from the lengthening silence that Blake's excuses had been exhausted, she threw up her free hand in surrender. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm not going to interrogate you until we get to Weiss' torture room, or wherever it is she's taking us."

Thank God for Yang. Blake allowed herself a laugh. "Weiss _would_ have an interrogation room, wouldn't she?"

"TBH, knowing her, I'm starting to think this whole Kaiser Island thing is a scheme to make us all sex slaves or something."

"I'm right here, you know!" came the shrill voice of an impatient heiress. "And it's cold, so either get inside or close the door."

Blake's expression fell again at the inevitability, but Yang managed to combat this once more. "Well, in any case, I hope that if we're sold off, we get sold off together. Maybe Weiss'll offer a group rate for us!"

Blake snickered again and allowed herself to be guided into the vehicle by Yang's comforting hand. She ducked through the entryway and shuffled over to the bench across from Ruby and Weiss, who were holding their coats close. Yang followed after, closing the door behind her and finding her seat next to Blake. As soon as the couple had put on their seatbelts, the driver departed.

Golden eyes fell on the only girl in the car who was having similar hesitations. Maybe this glance was out of wordless apology, but Blake was not sure. If anything, her reason for looking at Weiss was wordless self-flagellation—they had had their big disagreement during their first semester at Beacon, so Blake had no reason to distrust the girl in white. Weiss was her friend now—not her peer or a convenient partnership, her _friend_. And more than that, Weiss was a person who _always_ kept her word. So, if she promised that Blake would be safe on Kaiser Island, then Blake had to trust her. But…

Weiss looked up just then, half-glaring, half-cringing at the Faunus. Blake could not say her thoughts were the same as Weiss' just then, but she felt confident that their thoughts were coming from similar places. Weiss looked tired. She looked worn out. And she looked like she had inflicted all of this on herself—Blake knew this look very well.

She tried to offer a smile, but it only caused Weiss to look back down.

Seeming to notice this, Yang leaned over and rested her head on Blake's shoulder. A hand then snaked its way around the Faunus' back and held her waist, bringing the warmer girl closer. "Easy, Blake. Easy. We're gonna take this slowly, and you're gonna be cared for. Just…easy. We've got you."

Ruby's smile across the way confirmed this.

That tingling energy, which Blake was beginning to suspect was Ruby's, washed over her. And just like back at the house, this energy cooled her nerves. She did not know if things would go slowly or if she would be taken care of or if Kaiser Island would end up being some medieval torture castle. What she did know was that her course was unavoidable and that she would not be managing it alone.

She rested her own head atop Yang's, taking comfort in the very slight pillow made by the blonde hair. Her eyes wandered out the window beyond Ruby. Blake took the time to control her breathing and find her center, losing herself in that window's view meanwhile. She kept her thoughts quiet but let her mind wander in this semi-foreign landscape. They would arrive at the harbor soon, but, for now, Blake would try to calm herself.

The color of the ground was of no significance, be it white with snow, or brown with grasses, or even black with the soot of industry. Everything here was Atlas, and Atlas took pride in its sum composition. Blake knew this not from the books she had read on Atlas, both fictitious and otherwise, but from the looks of the people on the sidewalks. Even engaged in conversation, no one smiled. The people of Atlas seemed social but hardly friendly. Blake must have passed a couple dozen households, and perhaps a fraction of the houses' residents were out and about, braving the insufferable weather and greeting one another soberly. They waved like normal people, seemed to talk like normal people, but every one of them held a grim expression, like that which a person gives a mirror at the start of a bad day. The people were Atlas, the snow was Atlas, and this monotony was Atlas—and at no point did Atlas seem to mind.

It was all very dull, to say the least. Blake had thought herself rather stoic, too, and even a chore to be around, but Schlosshafen made her realize just how much Vale spoiled her. Vale was a huge city full of things to do, regardless of the season. Even before she left, she had participated with Ruby in the mad rush of Christmas shopping, and although the act, itself, was harrowing, it was _fun_. Here, not a day later, the only people out were either walking their dogs or pushing their snow. There was no rush anywhere, no fun; there was only a smooth and easy movement towards a preplanned goal.

In this way, Atlas _would_ be the lone kingdom to subsidize Menagerie's continuance as a prison island. Atlas was the home of Atlesians, so it took care of Atlesians. It had the only decent standing military, so the rest of Remnant bowed to its strategy. And the Faunus—those outliers who "descended from animals"—were perversions to Atlas' hallowed lines of succession. Not only were the Faunus foreigners, they were a separate species; they posed a threat to the exclusivity of Atlesian liberties and authority, not just in principal but genetically, too—an Atlesian could be mired in the careless murkiness of Vale or Mistralian lineages while dirtying their humanity with "animal" genes. Regardless of recent social advances, Blake knew she was not wanted here. She was not part of Atlas' plan, serving only as a roadblock to be removed.

Whatever. It was not Atlas she had to worry about. Her anxiety was Kaiser Island—the seat of power in Atlas and a battleground of higher agendas.

In all, Atlas was a serious, snowy place. It was inhospitable, ungracious, but Blake knew for certain that whatever she thought of this place's appearance did not matter. The power beneath Atlas' façade was clear and always in motion.

Nearly half an hour later, after departing from the airport, the limousine began to slow. The first thing Blake noticed about where they were was the sound of Yang's favorite birds. She could hear the low hiss of the sea, and she knew from this that they had arrived at the harbor. Weiss was rousing, too, looking like she was barely withholding a groan. Yang and Ruby, meanwhile, were eager to look out the windows at the parking lot they were pulling into, the lines of docked boats, and the frigid sea beyond them.

Apparently, they had been taken to a private harbor—or, at least, one where ships smaller than a freighter could dock. The driver had opted not to park in any of the numerous parking spots, choosing instead to stop in front of the gated entrance. He shut the engine off and, wasting no time, exited to make sure the gate was unlocked. It was, and he opened it.

Weiss sighed as she unbuckled her belt. But she kept her chin up and her poise inspiring as she left the vehicle to step out into an immediately briny winter. She and the rest of her team shuddered, Blake finding that she had not been prepared for the strikingly salty scent. Nevertheless, she, Yang, and Ruby followed after the heiress and found themselves missing the car's heater immediately.

The seagulls were even louder outside. There must have been a hundred of them, flying every which way overhead and catching Yang's slack-jawed fascination. Blake felt as though she should tell the blonde to shut her mouth before something regrettable happened, but Yang beat her to the punch, wondering, "How am I going to pat all these birds? They're all acting like animals up there! Unreasonable!"

"Yang," Ruby said meekly, looking up in what seemed like fear at the flock, "maybe we should get out of their way. You know what happened last time we stood under a bunch of birds…"

"Yeah, but those were geese. We'll be fine."

"Ah _em_!"

The group of three moved their gazes from the birds to Weiss, who somehow put her hands on her hips despite her coat pockets. Ruby smiled at this but Yang made a show of rolling her eyes.

"It's cold and wet. Please, can we get out of the weather?"

Ruby sprung ahead before Blake or Yang could respond. "Yes, please!" she replied, at Weiss' side in an instant. She held on to the heiress' arm and pressed close to her, making Weiss jump at the proximity and pause at its continuance. Eventually, she would build up the courage to walk with Ruby on her arm, but Blake could practically see predictions of Otto's judgment return to Weiss' mind. Having Ruby this close in this weather would not raise any suspicions about an unsanctioned relationship. The hand Weiss avoided holding, though, and the head she avoided leaning against were kept appropriately distant, appeasing Ruby's desire for affection but leaving nothing to the driver's assumption. The heiress moved forward, approaching that leering, suited man in such a way that nothing could be mistaken yet doing so quickly and curtly so as to get out of the cold without giving the man the time of day.

With a sigh, Blake began to follow, but her hand was caught. She found Yang looking at her, jokes of birds having vanished from her gaze. "Did you figure out what's on your mind yet?" she asked.

Blake paused. During the ride here, she had been focused on relaxation, not recovery. Honestly, she had no answer to give. But she had to say something because there _was_ something eating at the back of her mind, whatever it was. She blinked, swallowed, and said, "I don't know. Before, it was fear. Then it was homesickness. Now I think I'm just…I don't know."

"Well, I know one thing for certain: you're cold. And that can't be helping."

At this, the blonde's cheering expression sank a bit, but only for a moment. Her eyes focused on Blake—tightly and singularly—lips turning to something of a struggling frown as she forced something within herself into motion. And then the area warmed. The wind was still annoying, blowing an occasional gust of cold into this new, auric area, but Blake felt lighter with her girlfriend's help. Even a few birds landed nearby, confused by the heat and searching for its source. But Yang did not look at them. She just smiled at Blake.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Blake thanked, taking her hands out from her pockets. "Much."

All she could do now was stand around in this warmth and look at the wandering birds. Yang's question had vanished from her mind, and it was only brought back when she saw those curious lilac eyes appraising her. "Let me guess," Yang said. "You're conflicted. Probably about…this trip."

Always perceptive. "How did you—"

"Before you go and start calling me perceptive, just know that _you_ were the one saying that you were conflicted about this trip before we left. It's just pretty obvious now with the way you're looking literally _everywhere_ else except at that boat Ruby and Weiss are boarding."

Blake sent an appeasing glance towards the docks, trying to find the boat in question but bringing her gaze back to Yang before she could. Yang was right. The ride here had done nothing in the way of calming. Blake put her hands back in her pockets.

"It's just…" she tried, eventually continuing, "what if Weiss is right, Yang? What if this _is_ just a trap? People like Weiss' father aren't the type to meet with students like us just for the sake of meeting them. Especially when he's hosting who knows how many associates and benefactors. I know Weiss said he wanted us over to observe Ruby, but that can't be it, can it?"

"Heck, Blake, I'm not gonna try to guess what a guy like that's thinking. I mean, the only money we technically have is Weiss'. And we don't really have any friends in parliament for him to get leverage over. And I'm, like, ninety-nine percent sure we don't have the final piece to his super-secret death ray…even though that might be why he wants to meet Ruby." She shook her head, laughing at herself. "But seriously. I've got no clue. You're probably right, but I just can't guess what he's up to. We'll probably have to wait and see."

Blake sighed. "Maybe. That's the part that scares me, I guess."

"What, not knowing?"

"The waiting."

"The waiting? How so?"

"I don't know what kind of bureaucratic magic Weiss had to pull, but, by all rights, I shouldn't be here. You know who I used to be, Yang. My mentor paraded me around to White Fang leadership—I was _the_ lieutenant: the up-and-coming leader of the Atlas branch. I can't shake the feeling that the longer I'm here, the greater the chance that we all get arrested. Atlas' counterterrorism agency isn't some guy at a desk Weiss can ask a favor from. I'm in their files, no matter what Weiss said to them, and I wouldn't be surprised if Weiss' father invited the NCA's directors to the party."

"And I take it they wouldn't care if you told them how you've turned over a new leaf."

Maybe in forty years or so. When a Faunus got on a list for something as big as this, it tended to stick with and define them, just like their "animal" traits. "The point is: not only do they know I'm attending Weiss' party, and not only do they know I'm growing as a huntress, they know that you and Ruby are working with me. The worst Weiss might get from associating with me is a slap on the wrist. You? The best you can hope for is extradition to Vale on charges of conspiracy."

"Aren't you afraid of the same thing?"

Blake shook her head. "I'm terrified by what Atlas and Weiss' father could charge me with, but that's not on my mind right now. This isn't about home or Menagerie—it's not about the things _I_ want or the things _I_ believe in. I…shouldn't be here, Yang." Her gaze fell to the space between them. "I'm only a liability to you and your sister."

"Well," Yang said, bringing a hand to the back of her neck. This was not easy for her. She was still trying to keep an optimistic expression despite the potential of the situation. "This is tricky because I get what you're saying. In any other circumstance, if you didn't want to go, I'd respect that—I'd probably even stay with you. But with Ruby the way she is…she's not gonna let you stay behind. And what makes me nervous now is how certain I am that Ruby would be gung-ho about prison. That girl would fall on a sword for any of us."

She then sighed. "But, Blake, it's our job to make sure she doesn't do something that stupid. So, that's where we are." A seagull walked across Yang's boots, and that made her smile. This, in turn, allowed Blake's mind to reset, somehow. When Yang began again, Blake's mind was still on that seagull, allowing her to listen.

"Nothing is going to happen to us, Blake. And I can say that with absolute certainty. Take away Weiss' promises and our guest status at her mansion. Take away the party and all the guests that'd make our arrest awkward. Take all that away, and we still aren't getting arrested—you included. Sure, you have a history of plotting against Weiss' dad, but he's about to welcome three _really_ trained huntresses into his house. His security's gonna be too busy being suspicious of all of us to focus on you. And— _and_ —it'd look kinda petty of the Schnees to arrest us for…what, accepting an invitation? I don't think the press would take too kindly to Ruby's mugshot, and I don't think the Schnees' business can afford that kind of hit."

Blake could have easily argued against Yang's reassurance. There were plenty of holes and assumptions in it that would probably give under the slightest of pressures. But trying to disprove this argument's logic would only be pedantic since there was a good point beneath all the mistakes. At the end of the day, the Schnees depended on their legacy, which, in turn, depended on their adherence to social codes and mores—and, even more than those, their benefactors' desires. If Otto or Winter—or even Weiss—had Yang and Ruby arrested for whatever charges Blake could dream up, they would still be arresting people they had written invitations for and invited into their house. It was a weak defense, but Blake knew from all her research about the Schnees that they simply could not afford to break tradition at such an event as the Schnee Gala.

The Schnees needed their benefactors. And the benefactors—most often supporters of a prison Menagerie—needed the Schnees. And every interaction between the two parties required that traditions be upheld. So, the Schnees would not touch Blake or her friends while they were on the island, and neither would the benefactors. Otherwise, everything would fall apart.

It made sense.

The Faunus smirked, finally relieved, and opened her mouth to say something. Probably, Yang saw this attempt at speech and raised her eyebrow accordingly. But, as it was, Blake could not think of anything to say. Instead, she shut her mouth, closed the gap between them, and pulled Yang into a hug. She knew Yang loved this sort of affection, and she very much deserved it for making so much sense—or, at the very least, for clearing up Blake's storming mind.

"Okay, so, like, are you ready to get on the boat or what?" Yang asked, patting Blake heartily on her back. "I think that driver guy just finished loading our luggage. He looks pretty impatient."

Sure enough, Yang was right again. The driver was standing by the harbor's gate, glaring at Blake, but, this time, the Faunus felt certain that his ire did not come from schemes or malicious intent. He and the other assistants were just plain surly. That was all there was to it.

"Sure," Blake said, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear before returning the hand to her pocket. She did not want to leave the temperate area Yang had created, with all its sleuthing gulls and lacking cold, but she was ready. "And…thanks. Really, Yang. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Librarian, probably. Or barista. Or some writer that tells herself she'll continue her book but rarely gets around to it, leaving her patient readers in silence all the while."

"Oddly specific. You must have put some thought into that."

"You could say that, yeah." She gave the Faunus a wink and then moved to link their arms. "Now, I think we'd best be off. Don't wanna keep the still-to-arrive party guests waiting, do we?"

With a smile, Blake agreed. They passed the suited chauffeur, paying no attention to his scowl, and as well the wrought-iron gate. Their boots collectively crunched over more soggy salt as they made their way down the central dock, watching the private fishing boats, midsize yachts, and otherwise cold-weather ships bob and sway in the icy water. Thankfully, the wind, as bad as it occasionally got, did not kick up any of that water, though Blake did feel phantom chills splash across her face as though the wind had. Eventually, they would reach the end of the dock and find the final boat waiting for them.

Beside the gangway stood a man in a dark coat, cigarette smoke spilling from his lips as he stared past the water ahead of him, towards Schlosshafen. No one else was around, not even Ruby or Weiss, so Blake assumed he was part of the crew. The boat, itself, was nothing magnificent, standing apart from the ships beside it. It looked like any other ferry that had seen its fair share of use. It caused Blake to raise an eyebrow.

But Yang's smile was already beaming by the time they approached the man. "Hi!" she greeted. "This way to Kaiser Island?"

The man's lips did not budge, but Blake could hear a grumble of laughter beneath his sourness. "Sure is," he said, voice as salty as the sea. "Weiss and your friend are already aboard. You can probably find them in their seats."

"Well, thanks. I'm Yang, by the way, and this is Blake."

The girl in black gave a small wave as Yang reached out to shake his hand.

He shook back, unchanging eyes scanning the girls before him. "Happy to have you aboard, Yang and Blake. I'm the skipper, Captain Sturmwald."

"You work for the Schnees?"

He sighed deeply, as though he had answered this question a thousand times. "No. I run my own ferry business that just so happens to connect Schlosshafen to Kaiser Island. Weiss just pays well enough that I pick her up whenever she asks and don't ask questions."

Interesting. So, Weiss avoided her father's boat—which, as far as Blake knew, _did_ exist. Whatever this truly meant in terms of Weiss' relationship with her family, Blake did not know, but it did tell her that Weiss was, at the very least, active with her fortune.

"Sounds like her. Anyway, Blake and I are gonna leave you to it. Thanks for… Uh, it's not exactly _driving_ … Boating?"

"Don't worry about it. Just get on board. We'll push off in twenty minutes."

At that brusque response, Blake and Yang made their way up the short but wobbly gangway. As it turned out, the members of Team RWBY were the only passengers on this ship. What Blake found was a quiet, industrious craft whose crew was not curt but did not assume any sense of cordiality. This was an Atlas vessel—the _A.C.S. Pilfered Horizon_ , to be exact—and just like the airport and the town and its drivers, it, too, was Atlesian through and through.

Ruby and Weiss were easy enough to find. As soon as the older couple reached the sitting area, Yang unhooked her arm from Blake's and moved to sit beside the shorter two, who were huddling together in the heated room. She joked with Ruby, who was thoroughly enthused about her first boat ride and this trip to Kaiser Island. Blake found herself smiling with the sisters, meanwhile, as she sat on a seat facing them. Weiss, however, could not move her gaze from some nonexistent point, even with Yang's arm around her and Ruby's shoulders.

Blake trusted Yang and understood that Kaiser Island would not be as bad as Weiss made it out to be, but there was something real in Weiss' frost—something as real as the doubts Blake had had all the way here. It was a spiteful, disdainful, and repulsed expression. Weiss knew something about this trip that made her deeply afraid, even though, at her own admission, she did not know why exactly. Blake's smile softened and then faded. She still believed Yang, and she found herself internally clutching at the assurances given by the dock, but Weiss was smart and knew her family better than anyone else. She could definitely hold a grudge and see things the way she wanted to see them, but was there not some truth to her fear?

The room was toasty and the mood was relatively light. In exactly twenty minutes' time, the ship would depart, and Weiss' gaze would grow defeated. Nevertheless, Ruby was happy, and Yang was excited, and Blake found herself anxious but now in an optimistic way. She had every right to fear Kaiser Island like Weiss did, knowing that she, the Schnees, and the sisters were all put in jeopardy by her presence. However, there was something…grand about this danger—this adventure. Whatever plots and schemes Otto Schnee had or did not have, Blake knew she would spend Christmas with her friends and have an experience few were ever offered.

The _A.C.S. Pilfered Horizon_ pressed on, into the Barren Sea and towards Kaiser Island.

* * *

And now Team RWBY is on their way to Kaiser Island. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait another chapter before they actually meet Weiss' family—chapter six is going to be a relatively shorter chapter that sets a few final pieces in place before chapter seven's big meeting. But it's necessary for the pacing. You'll see why.

Anyway, that was chapter five. We have a few things going on, including Weiss' growing fears, Blake's trying to figure out her own, Ruby's mounting expectations, and all the trouble Yang intends to cause. Hopefully this setup for the story to come was entertaining enough. I wanted to make this chapter about the four girls and their respective relationships with each other—not necessarily diving super deep into their psyches but giving glimpses of their unique dynamics and the way they cope together during these trials.

I also wanted to use this, and also the next, chapter to introduce Atlas. Atlas is where pretty much the rest of the story is going to take place, so I thought it'd be best if we got first impressions out of the way quickly. One thing to note is that _On Kaiser Island_ is technically a sequel to my other novel, _Edelweiss_ , where, because of the year it was written, Atlas was the name given to the Remnant's northern kingdom, not Mantle—it was written during Volume 2, if I remember correctly, and canonical information wasn't exactly forthcoming back then. It's one of those things I'm going to have to divert from canon with in order to maintain continuity, but I will try to incorporate what I can from canon as it develops. For the sake of clarity, though, think of OKI's geography as such:

Atlas is the name of the kingdom; Mantle is the name of the continent. Atlas City—or, more colloquially, "Atlas"—is also the capital of Atlas, sort of like how New York City rests within New York state. Atlas City is inland, Schlosshafen is on the coast, and Kaiser Island is a distance off Schlosshafen's coast. If you have any more questions or points of contention, please feel free to ask about them. I'd be happy to answer.

As for another diversion from canon, you can probably guess that I'll continue using Otto as Weiss' father over Jacques. This isn't necessarily an act of defiance against the series; rather, there are a lot of characters, personalities, and interactions planned for the coming chapters that would not work with Jacques as head of the Schnee household. Consider my version of Weiss' family totally separate from canon. Winter will exist, and that's about the extent of the similarities—honestly, it's just too much of a hassle trying to futureproof these stories.

If there's anything else you'd like me to cover or any questions you'd like answered, please feel free to ask. I want to try and get back to being responsive. You guys mean a lot to me.

In the meantime, and as you wait for this story's next chapter, I encourage you to check out CalitaRael's Bumblebee fic, _Forlorn_. She's a good friend of mine, and I've been working as editor and consultant on _Forlorn_ , so you might see some of my influence there. It's really good, in my opinion, and CalitaRael has a much more approachable writing style than I do—plus, she actually releases her chapters in a semi-timely manner. Seriously, go check her out. This chapter wouldn't have gotten finished if it hadn't been for her support and encouragement. She's really the best.

She's also encouraged me to do a certain something at the end of my chapters from now on. Over Skype, she and I discuss certain scenes or mistakes in our stories, often to the point of blowing them _way_ out of proportion. Recently, she has decided to write out some of those over-exaggerations as "scene spoofs" to be placed at the end of her chapters. She's convinced me to do the same. So, I can't guarantee that what you'll find will be funny, but at least I can't say I go back on my word.

So, until next time. Thank you for reading, thank you for following, favoriting, and reviewing, and thank you so, so much for sticking with me after all this time. I really don't deserve this kind of support.

Stay safe and stay tuned.

* * *

 **Scene Spoof:** "The Summoning"

From the frosted metal awning above came a bird, its wings fluttering only a few times as it made the eight-or-so-foot drop onto one of the bollards that protected pedestrians from drivers. The snow-white bird looked out at the passing cars for a moment, patient in its curiosity, before hopping once to spin around. Its beady black eyes regarded the group of four, head tilting and straightening up again. It squawked.

Team RWBY stared at the bird for as long as it stared back at them. Eventually, Yang broke formation and took a step forward, earning her another head tilt but no backwards movement. She stepped forward again and yet again, and nothing was done except another realignment of the bird's posture. Blake watched as her partner extended a hand above the bird. Slowly, Yang, expression flat and dutiful, lowered her hand onto the bird's head. "Seagull," she said with two clear syllables, patting the bird with each one, making its head bob accordingly. She withdrew her hand, the seagull blinked, paused, and, with another squawk, was not alone.

Blake's ears flattened under her bow, spine prickling with the sense of _danger_. Even Weiss and Ruby were looking around, unsure of what was going on. But Yang kept her gaze locked on the seagull, its beady eyes trained on her.

The sky shook with the low drone of feathers. From somewhere above the awning, danger was coming, and, before Blake knew it, the sky drew dark with thousands—maybe millions—of other seagulls. Cars came to sudden, crashing halts, their drivers uncaring of the damage as they looked up in horror. Alarmed and, frankly, German questions rose from these drivers, and some of them got back in their cars, trying and failing to get away. But for Team RWBY, there was no possible escape.

Yang's gaze did not falter. It was intense. Despite the cacophony of _flaps_ and _caws_ , she would not quit from the staring duel she held with the lone seagull. Blake wanted to reach out, wanted to get Yang out of there so they could all head for cover. But she was too afraid. Ruby and Weiss held to each other, huntress instincts having left them entirely.

The seagull squawked again, and, with it, the droning came to a halt.

Then it continued for three deafening seconds, the sky falling on the Schlosshafen International Airport.

Thousands on thousands of grey-white bird littered the street and sidewalk, overcrowding the bollard where the first gull had been and surrounding Yang completely. All those tiny heads, twisting and turning as they tried to figure out what was going on, confused Blake and, honestly, disturbed her. Ruby and Weiss had gone back inside, watching the scene from a nearby window.

Encompassed by birds, Yang's gaze softened to the point of magical awe. And then she grinned. Looking over at Blake, she exclaimed, "Blake! Ahhhhh!" She was overjoyed. "Seagullsssssss!"

In an instant, Blake realized that nothing about this scene had been dangerous. Not one part of this flock was looking for blood; if anything, the only thing these birds were looking for was bread.

Yang bent down and started patting as many heads as she could, crooning and squealing at every chance she could. "Hey!" she would occasionally chide. "No biting! Bad seagull!" Nevertheless, she went to every bird, ruffling its feathers and playing with it until she got bored and moved onto the next. Even seeing this, Ruby and Weiss were petrified.

Blake sighed and turned around, wading through the sea of hopeful birds and heading back into the airport. She retrieved her suitcase, bought a return ticket to Vale, and berated herself for wasting a little more than a year with this…nonsense.

They would never see Blake again, and only she was happy.

…at least until the birds found her airship.


	6. Chapter 6: Pilfered Horizon

I've not been as consistent as I would have liked, not with this story and not with my own life, and I'm sorry for this chapter taking as long as it did. The months this update took to complete were difficult for various reasons, but the main obstacle I faced was, once again, school. I could only write fiction when I had time to spare, and, even then, I did not trust myself with this story most of the time since I was in a bad mental place while trying to destress. But I don't mean to excuse my inconsistency. I am sorry, and I want to do right by you all again.

For what it's worth, welcome back. It's been a while, and I've missed writing for you. What we have in this chapter is shorter than what I usually produce, but I don't think that's necessarily bad. Without spoiling anything, I don't think 20,000+ words would do this chapter any favors, considering its subject matter—heck, I think I'm already pushing it with 16,000. The next chapter should see a return to my usual excessiveness, but I'm happy with the "brevity" of this instalment, and hopefully you'll like it, too.

In my ending author's note, I have a couple things to talk about—nothing too serious, just something that's pretty important to me. In the meantime, I'll leave you with the chapter. Again, I'm sorry for taking as long as I did. Hopefully you enjoy chapter six of _On Kaiser Island_.

* * *

In the previous chapter, Team RWBY travelled from Vale to Atlas. It was a tiring journey filled with monotony, early morning stress, and fears of what was to come. They arrived in Schlosshafen, a coastal town which gave the team a taste of Atlesian life, before meeting with Captain Sturmwald, master of the _A.C.S. Pilfered Horizon_ and Weiss' trusted escape route from Atlas. Now the four are being ferried towards Weiss' home: Kaiser Island.

* * *

Chapter 6: Pilfered Horizon

The ibuprofen had definitely helped. Weiss' altitude headache was already wearing off, having been medicated before she departed from Vale. For this, she was thankful to Ruby and Blake. However, for the sight to come, she feared for them, too.

She stood at the at the boat's foredeck, arms crossed and eyes searching the horizon—a blue-grey gradient making differentiation of the sea from the fog from the sky impossible—for Kaiser Island. Despite the occasional spritz of horribly cold water, which always made Weiss step back from the railing for minutes at a time, this place was probably the most relaxing part of the ship. For one thing, there were actually heaters on the ceilings, thrumming distressfully as they kept some of the cold out. For another thing, Weiss was not alone, Ruby leaning against the rail beside her. Conversation had been scarce due to respective awe and recovery, but now that the headache was finally subsiding, Weiss felt the need to talk.

"What do you think of the boat ride?"

Although Weiss _was_ stressed about her father, the gala, the benefactors, and even Ruby's expected behavior, Ruby was still her girlfriend. They had not had the chance to talk about anything non-Atlas-related since the winter break began, and, with a couple hours yet to waste, Weiss thought now was as good a time as any to reconnect with her leader.

Giving her partner a sidelong, questioning glance, Ruby sounded, "Huh?" Then the question caught up with her. "Oh!" She smiled, turning her attention back towards the sea. "I, uh, kinda don't know. I like it, and I think it's pretty cool travelling like this, when everything's so cold around us. Like it might be easier to fly or something, but this is…unique. But it's also a little boring, to be honest."

Weiss could empathize. She had used Captain Sturmwald's services more than a few times, and the novelty had faded after the first couple voyages. "Is it the monotony?" she asked, trying to sound conversational. "Or is it how long it takes to arrive?"

"The monotony, mainly." Ruby hummed. "It's like…there's nothing to do here. And I know the point of ferries is to sit around until you get somewhere, but what am I supposed to do until then? We don't have any signal out here, so I can't get on my scroll, and there aren't any games or anything on here to keep us occupied, and we still haven't seen one whale since leaving Shlo… Shlows—"

"Schlosshafen."

"Yeah. That."

Weiss had to smirk. "Ruby, did you really think we'd see whales today?"

"…No."

But her eyes betrayed her, scanning the turbulent waves for signs of life. Weiss had seen whales before, and even in this sea—they were large, slow creatures that had a habit of making everything about themselves, so Weiss could not say she was the biggest fan. "Well," she said, "I wouldn't hold your breath. You aren't going to find animals that big so close to the Barren Sea."

"Huh? Why not?"

Weiss looked to her partner, considered her answer—choosing between traditional, assumed, and personal answers—and chose to give all three. "The Barren Sea is lifeless. Mostly. There are a few plankton and microbes and other small organisms, but there isn't anything larger than a fish there. Legends say the Grimm hunted this sea and stripped it bare of life. Scientists say there's a deficiency of necessary nutrients to sustain larger life." Ruby was looking at her, eyes off the sea now and focused on every word her partner was saying. She was smiling—that was a good thing. "Personally, I'm not sure I believe either. My…"

Weiss stopped herself, sighing. They were getting close to the island, and still she had not mentioned Winter—her own _sister_. But despite this procrastinating stress, Weiss felt she had no reason to tell Ruby now. Instead, she corrected, "I've caught a couple of fish just off the island, and, every once in a while, seals will find a place to rest on our shore. The scientists may be right, and there certainly aren't any Grimm out there to support the legends, but I do know that the Barren Sea isn't completely lifeless, nor does it end life. It just isn't home to anything."

"Yeah," Ruby accepted. "But still. It'd be cool to see a whale."

All Weiss could do was shake her head light-heartedly. Why had she decided to date this girl? By all means, they should have been incompatible, and, even to this day, a small voice at the back of Weiss' mind warned her that they were doomed to failure. What little attraction there was on Weiss' part—and indeed there was a little—had only begun _after_ her initial proposition, born of pity and apology as it was. The entire relationship was selfish—for whom, Weiss could not say. All she knew was that this unique affection she felt for Ruby was both mean and lovely. She wanted to smile, but shaking her head would suffice.

Heavy thuds sounded from behind the duo. Weiss, looking over her shoulder, saw Captain Sturmwald approaching, his longer, heavier coat having been hung up somewhere, useless now under the ceiling's heating coils, leaving him in a navy quarter-zip.

Weiss met Sturmwald two years ago—a few months before she left for Beacon. He was never anyone of import, just a ferry captain who knew better than to gawk or run his mouth. But he was reliable, safe, and, most importantly, he had integrity. Otto could disagree as much as he wanted about his daughter's non-military escort, but complain was all he could do; Sturmwald had told Weiss of the buyout offers he had received for his ferry company, and he had sneered.

Sturmwald did not do this favor out of dishonesty. He did not see Weiss as his friend, and she understood.

"Are you two holding up all right?" he asked.

Ruby, having turned from her whale-watching, regarded the man from over her shoulder. "Yup! I think so. Weiss was just telling me all about this place."

He gave a grunt of some vaguely positive emotion. "About Atlas or…"

"The Barren Sea."

This was the first time Captain Sturmwald had looked at Weiss in any way besides dismissal or disdain. His face was even, eyes betraying no emotion, yet something on the air, be it the situation's context or the unspoken hostility between the two, made her feel judged. Her father and sister gave her the same sort of look.

"I take it she told you of the Grimm in these waters?"

"Yeah. And how there aren't any."

Although Weiss did believe her ecological assessment of this place, part of her wanted Ruby to shut up. Part of her wanted Ruby to believe in the myths and fairy tales because… Well, because of that look.

Sturmwald grunted again. "There are Grimm. Miss Schnee travels one route on the sea and takes all her knowledge of it from books and second-hand information. No offense, Miss Schnee, but there _are_ Grimm."

Weiss was not offended. Not only did she not care of this captain's opinion of her, she knew that pride would be the only thing she defended were she to launch into a tirade—and that was not ideal considering her imminent destination. Instead, she shrugged, placed her hands in her pockets, and retorted, "Heads among the waves and songs in a storm do not a monster make. I trust evidence over anecdote."

He gave a pained grimace that somehow smiled. "One of my sailors lost an arm last month. And it wasn't to a head in the waves or a song in a storm. If you have a group of passengers who believe the Grimm are real and worry every second about them during their voyage, the Grimm _will_ come."

It was not the most outlandish claim. He could be right—what else could de-limb a person on a ferry? But, then again, Sturmwald could be blowing smoke. Weiss did not know him well enough to be certain, and his gruff, wry appearance could have been some gimmick, some routine Sturmwald had prepared for all of his passengers. Or maybe this was just another example of Ruby's uncanny ability to make even the surliest of people amiable. First the drivers, now Sturmwald—and, even earlier, Blake…

Regardless, Weiss knew which side she stood on. He might have made all the sense in the world, but, in her heart, she had faith in empiricism.

Ruby spoke up, turning to face Sturmwald fully. "Oh. That's…not good. I couldn't imagine what that would be like, someone around me losing… Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." His stance shifted, confirming at least one of Weiss' suspicions. This was real emotion he was trying to hide. "He's a tough kid. Crew's pitching in to get him a prosthetic, and his mother keeps asking if we'll take him back when he gets it."

"Well…" Ruby looked down. "Sorry. That sucks."

He shook his head as his demeanor shifted back to normal. "It's the world we live in."

Behind Weiss, waves crashed against the bow. With Ruby and Sturmwald silent in their shared awkwardness, and with no birds or whales or anything for miles, the waves made everything still. Weiss felt obliged to break the tension, to push further about the supposed Grimm here. But the goal was no longer argument—simply, she did not want time to introspect when Kaiser Island was so near.

"You say Grimm attacked your shipmate," Weiss said, trying to speak offhandedly so as not to betray her curt intent. "Do you have any other evidence? Any other encounters?"

"No. Not much. God seems to look out for us. But he loves to challenge us, too." Maybe it was the contrarian lens Weiss was looking at Sturmwald through, or maybe it was the lens he looked at Weiss through, but something changed in his demeanor, slight though this was. His shoulders lowered a touch, eyes searched themselves, and an exhale was stopped so he could speak again. "Every season, we'll get one or two Grimm. They aren't frequent, and they aren't guaranteed, but I'm sure you can understand why we take precautions."

He was convinced, that was for certain. In a way, Weiss did want to believe him. At the very least, she believed his crewmate's injury and the general hesitation people had towards the Barren Sea, but the Grimm? Weiss had grown up on the Barren Sea, and not once had she seen anything but birds, fish, and a few herds of seals.

Ruby, meanwhile, had her own life's experiences—and lack of experience with the Barren Sea. "What kind of precautions? Do you guys have, like…?" She let her question hang, waiting for Sturmwald to pick up on its end. But he was patient and let her continue. "Weapons? An armory? I don't know, cannons?"

All he said was, "We're prepared." This gave Weiss an answer even though Ruby accepted the response with a disappointed smile.

When moving groups of people around—whether those groups numbered in the tens or in the hundreds—it was wise to carry some form of defense, especially in places like Vacuo or Vytal's uninhabited valleys where the threat of danger persisted year-round. A concentration of fear will bring a Grimm miles out of its way, or so Professor Port claimed, and when a group of travelers, who do not know each other or the terrain, let the thought of Grimm enter even one of their minds, the fear becomes infectious. Weiss did not doubt Sturmwald had an armory. His sailors had the sort of expression that told of how willing they were to defend this ferry, no matter the cost.

Unfortunately for Sturmwald, corporate and communal armories were forbidden in Atlas—something about consolidating defense so only the military could handle it. Sturmwald's posture had straightened again, however minutely, as his eyes turned to Weiss. He knew Weiss was not on good terms with her father, but she was still a Schnee, which meant ties to politicians and other such war-mongers who vied for her future sponsorship.

Unfortunately for the government, Weiss did not intend to burn her only bridge out of Atlas. Plus, Ruby meant a lot to her, and this trip would already be taxing on the young girl's positivity as it was. If Ruby wanted to see some guns, then she would see some guns. Therefore, Weiss said, "Perhaps you could show us how prepared you are. Ruby is… Well, you could call her obsessed with weapons, and you wouldn't be far off."

Captain Sturmwald eyed the two warily. Ruby, in response, smiled widely, hoping to win over an emotion she was completely misreading. Nevertheless, Sturmwald complied.

"All right. Just…" He looked at Weiss again, grumbled, and turned to leave, waving his hand for the couple to follow. "Just don't touch anything."

"Oki doke!"

Ruby scurried after him, looking back at Weiss with an excited, thankful, and excited smile. She had always been easy to please. Perhaps that was why Weiss liked dating her—No. Although the ease with which Ruby's cheer could be achieved did boost Weiss' mood, easiness had never been the reason. If anything, this was just an internalized version of Ruby's reason for dating, which was that Weiss was difficult but made for a supposedly rewarding friend. In truth, Weiss still only knew she was happy with Ruby as her girlfriend; why she felt this way was still something of an unknown. She kept her head down, expression somewhere between pensive and distressed, as she followed her partner and the captain, knowing that she was only adding on to the list of secrets she was keeping from others—from her family, from Ruby, and even herself.

* * *

The Faunus were not animals. This was a sword Blake was willing to fall on if the need arose, and it was one she had fallen on many times only a few years ago. Animal appendages and occasional personality similarities did not make a Faunus any less of a person. Were they aberrations? No. Were they mutants? Depending on the intended connotation, potentially. Were they the result of a genetic dovetail with humanity some thousand years ago? Yes, and that dovetail gave them all the consciousness, rationality, and soul of any other human. But—unfortunately for this moment—the Faunus' animal traits were also very, very real.

Blake could feel the ferry sway under her feet, could feel all the jerks and bobs that came with every wave, big and small. Cats had an…adverse reaction to boats, not because of the water but because of the motion. Vertigo was a problem, especially with ears as sensitive as Blake's. Doubly unfortunately, doctors had assessed Blake at an early age for her inner-ear woes and found that indeed both pairs of her ears put her at risk for sudden fits of vertigo. In most other circumstances, this would keep a would-be huntress at home, resigned to some relaxing, stationary career. But because of White Fang rhetoric and the development of compensating strategies, Blake had been able to defy her natural expectations and then some. If ever there was anything about herself she could be proud of, it was this fact. But not right now.

No, there was little pride to be felt when the only thoughts she could muster were a want to implode and a want to shut this thought up.

She and Yang had gone exploring, intending to find what little there was on this clean but tired boat. Blake should have suspected from the moment she boarded that the water would be an issue, but between Yang, their adventure to Kaiser Island, and the stress of travel, vertigo seemed so beneath Blake. What an oversight that had been. Now the couple was leaning against a rail, looking out at the waves. Or, rather, Yang was. With eyes closed, all Blake remembered was that they were on the right side of the boat and that she wanted to fade from existence.

Nevertheless, she kept a straight face. There was nothing Blake could do to fix the situation, as drying up an ocean and making buoyancy bend to her whim were beyond her means.

Yang had been talking about something Blake had earnestly tried paying attention to, but the Faunus failed intermittently. As it was, the blonde sounded tense, but Blake could not bear to open her eyes and check. "Like, I get it. He's good. Somehow, he managed to make a _ton_ of really good teams with that first-person-you-see and chess-piece exercise, but it's still completely based on chance. I had friends—like _real_ friends—end their training after graduating from Signal because their parents got put on bad teams.

"I see kids every day walking the halls, miserable, and I know they're miserable because they just don't get along with their teammates. It eats me up inside. And you _know_ that whenever they ask to change teams or something, they get the same 'Trust the process' speech Weiss got. Just… I'm lucky we got partnered up, Blake, but I can't stop thinking about those kids who won't see their dreams come true because 'Destiny' screwed them over." Yang laughed wryly. "Maybe you could use that in your essay on teamwork, huh?"

At this point, Yang's train of thought came to a halt. The heat she gave off wavered, cooling for a moment, and her tone changed to one of clear concern. "Blake?" she asked. "You don't look too good."

Blake blinked and tried to improve her posture, murmuring, "Huh?"

She then felt Yang's hands on her shoulders before she was turned to face the blonde. Squinting, Blake opened her eyes only to find Yang searching for something within them. Worried lilac tracked amber wherever Blake's gaze wandered or whenever it became unfocused. When Yang realized Blake's eyes were not reacting to or looking for anything in particular, she came to a conclusion.

She moved to Blake's side, putting her arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and keeping her upright instead of warm. "Let's get you to—Well, let's see if this boat has an infirmary or something."

A medic would help. But so would time. And solid ground. And time spent alone. But so would a medic. With this reasoning in mind, Blake nodded, having no better idea.

In truth, Blake would have liked to pass out instead. Maybe then she would have been able to sleep through the world's turning in on itself. Unfortunately, she was wide awake for the walk to wherever it was they were going. Her legs carried her without purpose, directed by Yang instead of their owner, and her eyes, all over the place as they were, caught everything from the rolling, frigid waves on her left to the doors and windows and equipment on her right. She saw herself and Yang nearly run into a crewmember, but Blake could not remember what Yang had talked with him about. It turned out the conversation, however it went, had been about directions, and, after a few turns and a couple too-long walks, the couple made it to a door.

The knock made Blake grimace. She was getting the worst of both worlds—an inability to focus on the things happening around her and a hyperawareness of _everything_ that was happening around her. Yang knocked again, and Blake's grimace returned accordingly, but, like the last time, nothing had come of this except more headache.

"Maybe they're not in. Maybe…" Yang tried something and was rewarded with the door opening. "Okay. Well, let's get you seated, and I'll look for something. You take Dramamine?"

Blake could only say, "Uh." She was helped onto the room's exam table, Yang lifting her up—which turned out to be both helpful and harmful. Good posture was impossible, although Yang did try to keep Blake from slouching for about five seconds and Blake found herself stuck between wanting to stay slouched and lie down. As such, she swayed back and forth.

This made Yang's movements more than a little frantic. She hurried over to the cabinets against the back wall and opened them, skimming the names of the drugs and pushing bandages and whatever else was in there to the side. She huffed again, and Blake decided to lie down. The Faunus closed her eyes, wanting to avoid the spinning, fluorescent bulb above her, and groaned, suppressing the retch that probably would have made her feel better. As much as she tried to tune out the world around her, Blake's trance was inevitably interrupted by Yang's huffs turning into a growl. Evidently, she had restarted her search.

As Yang pushed the bandages and whatnot even further out of place, both girls were interrupted by the sound of a door opening—or, rather, _the_ door opening. Blake's head rolled to the side as Yang turned around, both finding a fairly skinny, bearded, and nonplussed man trying to figure out how Yang had found the audacity to do whatever it was she was doing. "Uh," came his disbelieving sound. "What do you think you're doing?"

Yang, caught red-handed and probably guessing this guy was the same guy Blake guessed he was—that is, the ship's medic or doctor or whoever—went the route of telling the truth. "Well, she—Blake—sometimes gets vertigo, and right now I think she's _really_ seasick, so I was looking for Dramamine."

Even with the explanation, he did not appear to believe her. "How about I see what's wrong and you stop digging through my stuff?" Sheepish, Yang put her hands up and moved to the side. The medic came to stand over Blake, sighing under his breath. "All right," he said, calmer than he had been with Yang. "I'm gonna have you look at me and answer a few questions. What are you feeling right now?"

She looked up into his eyes as best she could but found her gaze slipping from his. "Spinny…" she said, then correcting, "—Dizzy. And I can't balance and I've had this problem my whole life and—"

"Any nausea? Feelings of wanting to vomit?"

"Y-yes."

"All right." The man stepped away, and Yang moved over to take his place, grabbing Blake's hand and looking worriedly into her eyes. Quietly, though, Yang asked if she was the cause of Blake's want to vomit, and Blake would have laughed if she had not legitimately wanted to vomit. The medic—or doctor or whoever—then said, "I'm gonna give you some Dramamine, then I'm gonna take you somewhere so you can relax." Blake heard a bottle with pills rattle and the sink turn on for a brief moment. "You," he said to Yang, "help her sit up."

"Up you go." Yang slid one hand under her partner's back and kept her other within Blake's own. Blake forced herself upright, helping Yang help her, even though that did not help at all.

Before her were two outstretched hands; in one was a plastic cup of water and in the other was a single, round tablet. She tentatively took both and downed the pill. The doctor—or medic or whoever—then advised, "Try to find some before you head back. You're really supposed to take this _before_ you get on a boat."

"Will do," Yang said, smiling at his frown.

"Now, come on." He waved a hand. "We're gonna head upstairs—and there _are_ going to be stairs, so make sure you've got a hold of her."

Yang obliged happily. She assisted Blake's rise from the exam table, being surprisingly gentle despite her fussiness in caring. For every pause and moment of slowness, Yang made sure to stay right beside Blake, not saying anything, really, but encouraging the Faunus to work with her. Blake did stand, thankful for Yang's presence. Of course, there was love and that kind of stuff in the blonde's companionship, but Yang also served as a pretty good pillar to lean on—both figuratively and literally. Blake did as such, resting her head on Yang's shoulders and shutting her eyes as she, her girlfriend, and the medic or doctor or whoever left the infirmary's relative warmth for more of that frigid, briny, stomach-turningly ocean-y winter.

Today was not going too well, as it turned out. Maybe for everyone else, it was going okay, but Blake was not in any shape to find a silver lining. Instead, she was stuck in the clouds, trying to figure out what to do, how to feel better, and what to expect. She had been hopeful about this trip and remained partially so—after all, there was a certain goodness in doing something adventurous with people who genuinely cared about her—but today had taken its toll. Waking up too early, then fighting her sleep-deprived urge to vomit, then dealing with the slight crick in her neck that came from her limousine nap, then the whole airship ride and the feeling of staleness she felt upon waking from her second nap, and now this vertigo. Most of Blake's problems seemed insignificant, but they were constant and added up; all day, she had been in a state of continuous fatigue and pain.

But she knew Yang would take care of her. If that medic or doctor or whoever did nothing for her and the Dramamine failed, at least Blake would have her partner. And Yang was why Blake stayed positive despite everything.

* * *

Sturmwald unlocked his ship's armory, letting Ruby and Weiss in and following after. Whatever was going through his mind, it pushed aside the idea that this entry plainly jeopardized his and his company's position. Perhaps trust was what won him over—trust in Weiss' questionable tie to her father or trust in Ruby's well-meaning love of weapons. Or perhaps not—perhaps he had not been won over after all and was double-crossing Weiss somehow, which would not be unprecedented. Who knows. The fact was that Ruby wanted to be here, Sturmwald had permitted her entry, and Weiss had walked in with the both of them. If only because of their shared fault, Weiss felt there was nothing to fear.

The room was dark. Even when the captain switched on the overhead light, the room was gunmetal and black—tread plating on the chrome floor and dark steel cages on the gun cabinets reflecting light everywhere except the places it was needed. Ruby, being the first inside, went over to the first cabinet she saw and stood longingly in front of it. There were half a dozen rifles and just as many side arms inside with ammunition and magazines ready beside them—although completely illegal and pedestrian, Ruby still eyed them, yearning to dissect them and see what made them tick.

Weiss, meanwhile, moved out of the captain's way and ended up next to, and then sitting down on, a bench that was placed between the rows of cabinets. It was a relief to sit here, but, at the same time, she felt uneasy. Yes, it was good to get away from the cold, but this room was stuffy, _too_ warm, which Weiss could hardly believe. She watched the two, one in a disgustingly typical gun-trance and the other unlocking the first cabinet—At this point, Weiss wondered why Sturmwald was even doing this.

She furrowed her brows. Weiss had already established that Sturmwald must have trusted them for some reason and that this whole illegality thing had made a mess of obligations that each person owed one another. She also understood that he empathized with her obvious distrust of Otto. But obligations and empathy and Ruby's puppy-dog eyes did not add up to Sturmwald letting Ruby handle one of his rifles; Weiss had thought the plan had been to look and leave. They were staying, and Weiss was abetting a crime.

The captain let out a gravelly sigh. "I'm going to hand you this rifle," he said to Ruby without looking at her. "You _do not_ point it at anyone. You _do not_ load a magazine into it. You _do not_ switch the safety off. And you _do not_ leave this room or my sight with this weapon. If you do any of these things or anything I deem irresponsible, I will take this rifle away from you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Ruby was quick to nod, her pep having left her to show she really was paying attention.

The rifle was handed to her, firmly but gingerly. Ruby's eyes met Sturmwald's, and she smiled, accepting the exchange. He let go, took a step back, grunted ambiguously, and calmed down by sitting down, some distance from Weiss.

Ruby immediately inspected the weapon. She hefted it, aimed at one cabinet then snapped to another, checked the chamber and body a few times, and then defied Sturmwald by flicking the safety on and off. Luckily for her, all he did was shake his head, but Ruby never saw that. Nevertheless, she frowned at the weapon, set it on the bench between Weiss and Sturmwald, creased her brows, and then, as soon as that gerbil inside her head decided cardio was a bright idea, began disassembling the weapon. She was in a world of her own, and Sturmwald seemed apathetic, surprisingly. In fact, this whole situation was so surprising and out of place and uncomfortably questionable that Weiss finally asked, "Why?"

The captain looked to Ruby, expecting an answer, but Weiss caught his peripheral glance. The question had been for him, being that Ruby was not in any shape to respond. The icy gaze the heiress gave him cut through his apathy. He looked ahead again, back at the open cabinet. "Because I know that look in your friend's eye. One way or another, she's going to get her hands on this rifle. I'd rather that be while I'm around and not behind my back."

"That doesn't explain why you told us about the armory in the first place. This could have been avoided if you had lied."

"What kind of man could I call myself then?"

"We're both liars, captain, and we both know it. Playing coy doesn't suit you."

Ruby was causing a racket, the sound of metal sliding and clicking against metal making concentrating difficult. But Weiss kept her eyes on Sturmwald, watching as he mulled an answer over. She did not think him very smart, but the man was not an idiot. Despite Weiss' desire not to turn him into the authorities, he must have known that one wrong move could turn her against him. By the end of his deliberations, he shrugged.

"My daughter had that same look."

"Is this another lie?"

"No, Miss Schnee. But if you want to continue doubting my stories, be my guest."

The heiress grumbled, more at herself—the whole stress of this trip—than at him. "Go on," she said, attempting a tone of apology. "Tell your story."

"Not much to tell. My daughter shot herself because she didn't know how serious guns are."

Weiss paused. Her mood sank.

She had been conversing for the sake of passing time, so careless and detached, but… Weiss clenched her teeth, steeling her emotions. Bad things happen to innocent people—it was just the way of the world. What was important now, and what Weiss needed to focus on, was Sturmwald and what he was presently going through. No more callousness—no more Weiss of yesteryear.

"Is she…all right?"

Sturmwald let out a silent exhale that seemed like a grimace and a laugh. "She's alive," he said. "Afraid of guns to this day, but she's tough."

He was taking this well, but Weiss could not take his emotions for granted. She of all people knew what it was like to put up a mask long enough for it to become the accepted reality. "Still, I'm sorry you had to go through that. I can't imagine what it must have felt like." Weiss' teeth remained clenched, now out of regret more than steel. The way she worded that last sentence… Deciding silence would only emphasize her accidental double-meaning, Weiss asked, "What happened?"

"I wasn't a good father is what happened." He then recomposed himself, breathing calmly but focusing his burning eyes on the cabinet. "My daughter, like most other kids, didn't understand the seriousness of guns but was fascinated by them nonetheless. But whenever she asked me what they were or what they did, I didn't answer. Kids shouldn't have to worry about that stuff."

"You're not wrong. But it's the world we live in."

"We own guns for the Grimm. These days, we don't have to worry about food and shelter and people being taken from us—we're supposed to have advanced from that society. Yet despite all our advancements, we still fight, and will continue to fight, the monsters we've always fought. But now that we're so focused on that goal, we tend not to look behind us at problems growing on the home front."

He was talking about the Schnees—or this war-oriented society the Schnees built and operated. Weiss frowned. Sturmwald was not wrong, and he was not shortsighted, but he was not necessarily right, either. However, Weiss bit her tongue.

"I'm supposed to provide for my family, and I'm happy to do just that. It's what I am, Miss Schnee. I've been a sailor for most of my professional career, so I'm no stranger to extended leaves from my wife and daughter. But money's getting harder to come by if you aren't in the business of war or owned by the SDC. Same thing, really. Something changed in the last few years that demanded more of our time to make the same amount of money—the war effort multiplied, taxes went up, and suddenly people weren't eager to travel, which meant my men and I worked longer jobs. That meant I was at sea when my daughter found an unsecured gun."

Weiss swallowed. She wanted to argue. Every fiber in her being told her to bark at him, to point out his reckless actions in leaving his gun out in the open and overexerting himself with his work schedule. He could have just… It was certainly a difficult situation he was describing, but he made enough trips to Kaiser Island that the Schnee Dust Company could probably put him on a contract. Nevertheless, Weiss did her best to stay diplomatic and softer for that girl beside her, who was now reassembling the rifle and studying how it worked.

"It's a mess," Weiss admitted. "And that's probably an understatement. I didn't realize the war was doing this to Atlas, and I know I don't have the authority to apologize—"

"Don't," he interrupted, calm. "You aren't the one who caused this. You're just a kid, not a war profiteer. Not yet, anyways." Again, Weiss wanted to argue and tell him she was involved in high-level operations of her family's company, not "just a kid." Fortunately, however, she never got the chance, as Sturmwald continued, eyes tightening as he spoke. "If anyone's to blame, it's your father. He's the one who decided to ramp up the war effort. He's the one who persuaded parliament to make taxpayers pay more for it. Him and his errand boy, Tyr, are the ones to blame. They've made me anxious about what happens in my home because I can't be there to protect my family."

In truth, Weiss was not sympathetic for him. She felt sympathy and the saddening pang that came with it, but she felt angry, too. Angry at _him_. But she was not truly angry, either; instead, she was somewhere between sympathetic for his restrictive situation and angry that he could not see the bigger picture.

"But I'm sure your situation makes sense, too," he said. Sturmwald glanced over at the heiress whose company had gotten his daughter shot, eyes placid yet with an ember of pain deep within them. "You must hear a lot on Kaiser Island and know which ways the winds are blowing. But no matter how much sense your father's plans may make, I must hate him, as any good Atlesian should. Atlas' strength is not in its military; it's in its character, and your father is making Atlas paranoid."

How could Weiss be so angry with Sturmwald yet agree with him at the same time? Yes, Otto Schnee was a monster, and there was definitely no love lost for him. But, at the same time, he was still family. Sturmwald had been right in claiming that Atlas' strength was its character—dedication, perseverance, unity—but, monster or no, Otto Schnee embodied these qualities and served as Atlas' historical guardian. All Schnees had been this way, and all Schnees had vowed to uphold their family and kingdom.

After a moment of deliberation, Weiss offered, "I hope we can find peace between each other one day."

Sturmwald's reply was a grunt. It hurt.

At about that point, the eager girl between them finally reassembled the gun. With a final _click_ , Ruby hefted the rifle with a smile and said, "Okay, I think I'm done now. What were you guys saying?"

Conflicted as she was, Weiss did not know how to respond to this interruption. Had Ruby not paid _any_ attention? Had she not heard a single part of the conversation? At the very least, Sturmwald seemed to think similarly, raising an eyebrow at Ruby, but Weiss eventually allowed her gaze to drop to the floor. These were oversights on her own part—the conversational slip-ups, the societal damages, and even forgetting about Ruby's…idiosyncrasies. This was not even an obsession on the girl's part. She plainly had a habit of transporting herself to somewhere calmer, where she could dote on the small things in life, whenever she was around weapons. It was still unbelievable that Ruby had not heard a word of that conversation, but Weiss knew it was not impossible.

"So, what do you think?" asked Sturmwald. "Think it'll keep us safe?"

Ruby shrugged. "No, not really." The captain smiled slightly at her nonchalance. "I mean, if you guys used all of these at the same time, maybe?" She squinted, looking up at something in thought. "Like…I like the way you guys make your guns—Atlas, I mean. They've got really good steel, and it's _super_ light, and you can tell that a lot of love went into it. But…the caliber isn't really big enough, you know?"

"Maybe not, but we make do." The captain stood, imposing but not intimidating. "Mind if I take that off your hands now?"

"Yeah, sorry." Ruby seemed sheepish, but Weiss did not bother figuring out why—after all, whatever made an awkward girl feel awkward was never definite and tended to change beneath any scrutiny. The gun was handed back to Sturmwald and was then placed beside its brothers in the cabinet, which was soon locked.

The captain let out another grunt of half-laughter. "You're supposed to protect us from the Grimm, and you're apologizing for holding a gun? Is this the famous curriculum of Beacon Academy?"

"Of course not!" Ruby half-scoffed, almost defensively. "Beacon has a _very_ good curriculum, and the professors there would _never_ teach a huntress to apologize for—"

"So, why did you just do it?" Weiss asked, having no stake in this exchange other than her own distraction.

Ruby looked as though she were about to justify herself, but she held her tongue instead. Whatever she had been hanging on to, she let go of, and her silence released its tension. Quietly, she said, "I'm sorry."

"I'm just pulling your leg," Sturmwald assured. This, fortunately, piqued Ruby's interest and perhaps even saved her mood. "Having manners like that will get you places other people can't go."

This seemed to appease Ruby. Of course, Weiss knew her partner would linger on this semi-awkward moment and be all the more awkward for it, but she was used to jokes. Ruby could write this moment off as perfectly normal—at least until she had a moment to think about it and dread—and it appears she did, as her expression lightened markedly.

Sturmwald blinked, looking off to the side for a moment, and then said, "Come on. I want you to meet my crew. Might as well finish the tour if I'm gonna start one."

Giving a happy, accepting shrug, Ruby moved to follow the captain. Whatever had happened, her brief, minor, and ultimately inconsequential moment of negativity had been wiped away with a joke and a task. Sturmwald did not need to do that. He could have been his usual, phlegmatic self, but he had gone out of his way to keep Ruby occupied—that said, this could have also been yet another instance of Ruby charming someone whom Weiss had never been able to earn the favor of. It was more than a little annoying how easy she made it seem, in all honesty. However, Sturmwald had been kind, both today and over the years.

As such, Weiss stopped him by clearing her throat. "Captain," she said, earning her a cold gaze that Ruby could not see, "I know my family hasn't been hospitable to yours in the past, but I would like for you to attend the upcoming Schnee Gala so that we can make amends. I know this is short notice, but you are allowed one guest—"

"Miss Schnee." He cut her off. "I appreciate the gesture, but I cannot. My men and I are working the ferry those nights to get your guests to the island."

"Oh." Stupid. How had she not known he was contracted for the event?

Weiss wanted to say something else, to get out of this new, uncharacteristic awkwardness, but she knew offering further concessions would lead her to excessive promises. She had said her piece, and he had appreciated it; anything else would cost her.

"Very well, then." She cleared her throat again and stood from the bench. "Let's meet your crew."

Sturmwald looked at her for just a moment longer then snapped his gaze to the door before opening it. The three would brave the unbearable cold for a few more moments, moving to some central stairwell that would take them downwards, but Weiss did not focus too much on where they were going. Her mind was on Sturmwald's daughter, his business, and the way he had handled Ruby—cheering her up and helping her interests thrive. Weiss was perturbed by it all. She did not know why, exactly, but she knew this feeling was inwardly focused. She could easily write this lack of focus and jealousy—this loss of her usual edge—as some fear of what was to come on the island. But she did not. Instead, she knew this was her fault.

* * *

Blake swore she could see blue out there—far beyond the greys and greens of the sky and sea. It was where the sun broke through, where the clouds did not reach and where Atlas glowed somewhat turquoise. It was warm there. And peaceful. And Blake stared at it until the horizon's tranquility came to her.

Or, really, until the Dramamine took effect. Which it had not yet.

She was sitting somewhere amidships, her posture dutifully rigid against some wooden bench and her eyes focused on the unmoving, blue sea in the distance. Just like the doctor ordered. Blake still felt queasy, and things had not gotten much better, but her spirits were lifted somewhat, and that sufficed. Having something other than sickness to occupy her mind helped.

To this end, Yang nuzzled into the side of her partner's neck, hair soft and tickling. They were sitting outside since, apparently, the windows from the sitting room could have worsened Blake's condition—Blake doubted this, though, because windows had never affected her vertigo before, but, between Yang and the doctor (or medic or whoever), Blake did not intend to argue. She was content to let the medicine and horizon heal her while Yang's company and aura warded off the season.

"I know this is probably inappropriate, considering your…" Yang sighed, restraining her sense of humor. "We probably should have ate before leaving the airport or something. I mean, at least me. Probably not you. I'm getting kind of hungry."

"Well, maybe you could ask the doctor. I'm sure he could point you in the direction of something."

Blake could feel Yang shift her head, looking up at the girl who couldn't let herself look back. "I'm usually pretty good about reading your monotone. Usually. But Sick-Blake's monotone is on a whole 'nother level. I don't know if you're jealous of him or if you're genuinely trying to help."

"Why would I be jealous of him?"

"Blake. Please. Work with me."

Honestly, Blake was amused. She was in a good mood, all things considered, but duty to her wellbeing overrode any willingness to laugh. However, she felt confident enough to allow just one joke. "Maybe he has an apple."

"Aren't those supposed to keep doctors away?"

"Maybe he's not a real doctor."

"Right. Maybe he's a pirate with scurvy, and _that's_ why he has an apple."

"An apple he hasn't eaten."

"Well, that's why he has scurvy."

"Are we attacking the character of a man who just helped us?" Blake asked.

"Well, I can't tell," Yang responded. "Are you being sarcastic or am I just paranoid?"

Yang was in a good mood, too. Nevertheless, Blake could tell when Yang was concerned—it had become crucial to know the signs before emotions got out of hand. Right now, she was forcing her jokes into the conversation. They were not bad, per se, and they certainly did not seem out of place, but considering how a majority of the things coming out of Yang's mouth were jokes, Blake had the sense that Yang was panicking a little. The jokes were her means of coping and of fixing a problem she otherwise had no control over. But even if Blake insisted she was feeling better and that the jokes were unnecessary, Yang would never believe her. Therefore, Blake ignored her girlfriend's question and asked, "What do you know about the Schnees?"

Yang let out something between a growl and a sigh as she returned to leaning against Blake's neck. "Blake, just because you're sick doesn't mean you need to make me sick, too."

"You always seem so disdainful whenever they're brought up."

" _Just answer my question_."

"What with the way you treat Weiss…"

"Blaaake," Yang all but sobbed. "I can't read your emotions!"

The Faunus allowed herself a smirk. "I'm joking, Yang. I'm in a good mood, I have no problems with anyone on this ship, and I genuinely believe the doctor could tell you where to find food." Her hand sought Yang's, taking hold of it and bringing it into her lap. "And I have no reason to be jealous."

"Why's that?" asked Yang, disingenuously confused.

"You know why."

"Nuh-uh. Let me in on your secret, Blakey."

"You're fishing for compliments, that's why."

Now it was Yang's turn to smirk. "Just tell me what I want to hear."

Blake sighed and turned her head, shirking her doctor-ordered duty to look into the pouting, lilac expression beside her. "Your devotion speaks for itself. You've given me nothing but love and every reason to trust you, Yang. Happy?"

"When you say stuff like that? Always."

Blake shook her head and turned back to the horizon. Yang cozied up to her side. She was so smug right now, but that only made it harder for Blake not to smirk. They were both acting for each other's sake, and although Blake's persona may have been a bit…colder than usual, she knew Yang understood where this acting was coming from. Or so Blake hoped.

Maybe Yang _was_ hungry—or, at the very least, she was impatient about something. Her fingers drummed on Blake's thigh. "What's on your mind?" hummed Blake.

The drumming stopped. "Nothing, really. Just thinking about your question—you know, because _I_ actually have common courtesy and answer questions when asked."

"Usually, people don't own common courtesy. They _exercise_ it."

"Case in point." The drumming resumed, and, to add to this, Yang started rocking herself against Blake, bumping the Faunus at steady, teasing intervals. "But about the Schnees: it's kinda weird. Weiss' dad _should_ just be the dad of some girl who happens to be our friend, and I'm pretty sure that's what he is to Ruby and me. But the dude's also like a movie star. Like, 'We're gonna go meet my family, but don't be weird about my dad because he's some of your favorite characters of all time.' Except flip that because Weiss' dad is a greedy, corporate suit who hates love and loves hate."

"That's a grudge if ever I've heard one."

"Nah, it's not like that." Yang was still again, and Blake could feel the boat's motions in the void left by her girlfriend's distraction. The blonde was quiet as the boat bobbed, riding up one wave then down its back easily and without pause. "You know how Weiss acts, Blake. Haughty, uninvolved, _mean_. That, and she's soft as heck. But she's also sorta tolerable—I can't imagine the undiluted version of her is better. I hear Weiss' sister is just like her but worse."

"Winter?"

"I don't know her name. Maybe that's her. Really, the only reason I know of Weiss' family is because they're on the covers of those magazines they put at the checkout lines of grocery stores. But I don't even want to think about that. At the end of the day, Winter and Otto Schnee are Weiss' family, and I'm going to give them the benefit of a clean slate when we meet them."

Blake, of course, had her own history with the Schnees and knew that Yang was…well, maybe not correct, but definitely of a stronger character for giving the Schnees a chance. Blake would be too busy keeping her guard up and getting ready to escape to even consider Yang's approach. "Just…be careful, okay? I understand you want to give them a chance, but, at the same time, don't let them have a chance at you. Weiss told us they're up to something."

"And I don't doubt it. It's not every day you get a block of instruction about how to meet someone's family. But, at the same time, Weiss is _kind of_ paranoid. Maybe her dad's up to something, maybe not. I'm guessing she's blowing this vacation out of proportions no matter what."

"Yeah, you're right…" Blake's voice drifted off.

She would hold on to her belief that Otto Schnee was scheming something, even if his only intent was to observe Ruby, but Yang had a point. Weiss and Blake had prejudices against Weiss' family, and while both prejudices might have been warranted, they also came from lifelong biases that could blind them from the truth. Weiss tended to exaggerate people's negative traits and make efforts to socially quarantine someone she deemed improper—Ruby, for example, had only been a little too clumsy and forward yet ended up berated by her partner, humiliated in front of her friends, and questioned by her professors before being deemed acceptable by Weiss. Likewise, Blake had a tendency to not give people the benefit of the doubt. Her mentor and the White Fang's propaganda had foisted their hateful worldview upon her, and she had accepted it eagerly. Maybe the Schnees were not as bad as Weiss and the White Fang made them out to be, but Blake was still not sure she was ready to accept that.

"I'm just gonna go in there and treat the situation like I did when I met _your_ parents," Yang said. "I didn't think they'd be good or bad; I just thought they'd be like you. And if Weiss' dad turns out to be like Weiss, well, at least we know how to deal with that kind of personality."

Well, that was a completely different scenario. "Yang, you can't really think that meeting Weiss' family will be comparable to meeting mine."

"Why not? If I'm remembering right—and, really, how could I forget?—your mom gave me a bigger verbal beat-down than Weiss ever has."

"And I'm still sorry about that, but—"

"Blake, it's okay. That's not the point I was trying to make." Yang squeezed her partner's hand as she pulled away, turning to her side and tucking one leg under another as she faced Blake. "Just… Benefit of the doubt, okay? It's not like I'm saying we've got the wrong idea about him and that he's not a greedy corporate suit. I just want to treat this like a vacation. I don't want to go into Weiss' house looking to start a war. I'm going there so you and me and Ruby can have a good Christmas. If that means acting all buddy-buddy with a guy that turns out to be a total jerk for two weeks, so what? It's just too weeks. Plus, I can make my decision about him from my own experiences, not because of some tabloid."

Blake wanted to say this perspective was naïve. She wanted to say that normalizing a man who had his fingers in every economy and who made conscious efforts to suppress the Faunus was a categorically bad thing. However, as much as she wanted to say these things and as much as she believed them, she could not bring herself to tell Yang. Again, Blake knew she was coming from a place of fractured biases—even two years after leaving the White Fang, she was still trying to figure out which beliefs to retain and which ones to throw out, and this did not make for the most level of heads. Secondly, and more importantly, she could not bring herself to force issues on a girl who only wanted to secure a merry Christmas for her sister.

But, somehow, Yang saw this tension. She squeezed Blake's hand harder, holding it now in both of her own. "No matter what, Blake, I'm on your team. No matter what. If it turns out Weiss' dad is even slightly a jerk or that the things the tabloids say about him are true, I'm done. I'll be sticking with you and Ruby from then on out. I'll let Weiss deal with him while we just focus on us."

"I'm being difficult," Blake regretted.

"No, you're not. You're being careful. That's a good thing."

"But I'm arguing with you."

"No? If we were arguing, we'd be trying to stop each other from doing stuff we'd do anyways. But you're not. You're warning me, and I know you're doing that because you care."

Blake broke a smile. This was odd, though. Consciously, she knew that this trip was a mistake on some level, and not even her rationalizations or Yang's assurances, which Blake earnestly trusted and held to, could unseat this suspicion. But, despite the ever-lingering dread, Blake could not say she was in a bad mood or that she was scared. Indeed, Yang's assurances _did_ calm her, and the rationalizations _did_ make sense. It was a paradox that left Blake feeling mostly positive but markedly negative, too. Knowing her warnings and concern were worthwhile, however, helped. More than a little, at that.

"All right," Blake conceded. "I may not agree with how you plan on handling Weiss' family, but I trust you to make good decisions. Clearly, I'm biased, so I'm glad you're being level-headed for me."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. It's not like I _want_ to be all buddy-buddy with these guys. It's just that I kinda have to _exercise_ some common courtesy." Yang snickered at her joke, and Blake kept smiling, too. "Think about what happened with Weiss, you know? Yeah, I knew Weiss had money. Yeah, I knew she could be arrogant and mean like the rest of her family. And, yeah, once I knew she had a problem with Ruby and was willing to act on it, I had a problem with her. As much as I wanted to get back at her and knock her down a peg, I knew I couldn't.

"Ruby was just getting into Beacon—the school she'd always wanted to attend, two years early—and I was trying to start a new life. Picking a fight with Weiss wasn't gonna go well, win or lose. So, I bit my tongue, rolled with the punches, and focused on keeping Ruby happy. It definitely sucked to keep all that anger bottled up, but sometimes that's what you gotta do. Not everything in life is perfect—you probably know that more than anyone, Blake. Good things happen, bad things happen—what matters most is what you choose to focus on."

"But you can't ignore the bad things, Yang," Blake countered. "Keeping your head down and ducking under the radar works well in a lot of circumstances, but sometimes there are things you need to speak out on. I don't want to lecture you on the Faunus, Yang, but there was a long period where we did bite our tongues and hoped things would be better. When that happened, people saw us as docile—as domesticated—and took advantage of us because of our silence. Then, when the bottled-up anger reached a boiling point, the White Fang happened."

"Which wasn't good."

Blake sighed, admitting, "No, it wasn't. Maybe at the beginning, there was something good, but the idea was destined to get out of hand. All of those people who had unvented frustrations finally had a way to say something. Then the movement got more popular, and we started taking in and taking on the rawer messages. That's where they are today. You have to strike a balance, Yang, between inaction and overreaction, or else you end up being controlled by the situation, itself."

The blonde was quiet for a moment. Her smile had fallen away, but she was not mad. No, her expression was even and inquisitive, ear on Blake's shoulder and eyes on the horizon. Eventually, she said, much to Blake's surprise, "You know, I haven't thought about it that way."

Pride. That was what Blake felt, pounding warmly in her heart—but it did not come from changing Yang's mind. Blake did not care about winning anyone over to the White Fang's side or having Yang realize the iniquities faced by the Faunus. Simply, Blake felt pride from the affirmation. That she had given her opinion to Yang on something so trivial but so integral to her character, and that this was affirmed, was… It made Blake feel like she mattered.

"We'll do what we have to, kitten. We'll watch out for each other." Yang was quiet for a moment. "We're not gonna start a war or anything while we're there, 'cause, you know, we'll be on Weiss' dad's island. But maybe on our way out, we could say something…"

"I'll be peaceful, Yang. Don't worry about me."

"Never planned on it," Yang contentedly sighed.

Then came the spritzing quiet of the ferry on the sea. Yang became pensive in that moment as she went back to leaning against her partner, squeezing Blake's hand intermittently. It was all just small talk, but Blake knew it was needed. Their nerves were still there—both girls had come to terms with the imminent visit, but some anxieties refused to go away. Blake knew they would never truly go away, at least not for her, distrustful as she was of her host and her past, and she knew Yang felt similarly. Togetherness was what counted, what got them through. They needed to hear each other, squeeze each other's hands intermittently, to know that the burden to come would not be borne alone.

Yang broke the silence again, asking, "What did you do the last time you were here?"

"…With the White Fang?"

"Unless you also came to Atlas on a field trip."

"It was training."

"To attack the Schnees. Yeah, I got that part. But what did you _do_? Where did you _go_?"

Honestly, Blake did not enjoy looking back on those years. She had been such a different person at thirteen that attempts at remembering were met with regret and a difficulty in recalling those events which seemed so surreal to her now. "I was on the eastern coast. Far away from everywhere. The place didn't really have a name; it was just a forward base set up in the middle of Grimm territory."

"Please tell me it was a submarine base."

"Yang, if we had a submarine, do you think we'd risk coming to land?"

"Not if your submarine base was in a cave."

"You watch too many movies."

"You read too much."

"Do you want me to tell you my story or not?"

Yang smiled at her off-innocently. "Pretty please?"

" _Now_ you're making me feel sick." Blake felt Yang return to her resting position, huffing jokingly. "My goal was to eventually command the Atlas cell and prepare an assault on Kaiser Island. We didn't know where Kaiser Island was at the time, though, so my mentor took me here for a couple weeks so I could familiarize myself with the terrain."

"And did you?"

"I remember one mountain pass. It snaked through the Äshchernen Berge. Weiss' old house used to be in the middle of those mountains, and the pass would allow a few people to get within viewing distance. I don't remember the pass' name, though, and I can't imagine it still exists after all this time."

"Maybe we'll see it someday."

"Maybe," Blake offered, but she really did not care. If she could leave her past in her past, then she could work towards happiness. But if she found herself with Yang in those mountains, she would not say no to the adventure. With these thoughts, the Faunus' story petered out.

"You make a really good huntress, you know that?"

Blake's brows furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"A bunch of things," Yang said, nonchalant but thoroughly convinced. "You've got a way better memory than I do, especially when it comes to maps. You run fast, fight hard, and you're disciplined. Dad always said intangibles were what separated a good hunter from a great hunter, and discipline's one of those intangibles." She trailed off, voice becoming wistful all of a sudden. "I've still gotta introduce you two sometime."

That she did. On one hand, it felt like a rite of passage in many ways, meeting the parents—one Blake had already put Yang through, and at a moment's notice at that. In this way, Blake wanted to meet the infamous Taiyang. But, on the other hand, therein were difficulties and even more anxieties that Blake did not want to deal with today.

"Probably. But I don't know," was as good of an excuse as Blake could give.

"Blake, he'll love you." Yang leaned into her partner, nudging her. "I imagine the first thing he'll say to me is, 'Wow, Yang. You're actually dating someone with something between their ears. Great job!'"

"You don't think he'd have a problem with me being…"

"A girl? I mean, he already knows and said he doesn't care. And I wouldn't care if he did. He's the type of person who gets on my case when I lose focus on stuff, not when I fail to live my life exactly the way he wants."

"No, I mean…"

"Oh..." Yang seemed to clue into the actual problem they might face. "You're worried about what he'll think about you being a Faunus?"

One could never be too careful.

"Blake, I'll tell you _exactly_ the way it'll go if you meet my dad. He'll notice your ears, then he'll go into backpedal mode, even though he hasn't done anything, and then he'll bend over backwards to make sure you're happy."

With her free hand and fingers, Yang started counting the things that would happen. "First, he's gonna be awkward. Really awkward. Second, he's probably going to make some sort of joke to break the ice that'll end up being kinda really racist. Third, he's gonna apologize for that joke then remove himself from the picture for a while, giving us some time to talk about how weird he's being. Finally, he'll come back, act like nothing ever happened, and proceed to let you get away with murder. Dude's a depressed junior-high teacher who tries his hardest every day to make Ruby and me happy. We'll be fine."

"Sounds like a dad," Blake commented, half nervous.

"Yeah, well, some things never change, I guess."

Blake was quiet after that. Her silence was hopeful, as she did yearn to find herself on good terms with Yang's father, but it was also tired. All this talk without progress, all these hypotheticals and suppositions without forward movement, they were exhausting after a while. At this point, she just wanted to make it to the island—her tension with the Schnees was still a sizeable anxiety, but she was tired of this limbo.

She leaned her head against Yang's. "Do you think things will be all right?"

"Yeah," Yang replied. "I think so."

Blake's eyes closed halfway, training on the horizon. She could feel the Dramamine settling over her finally, her senses sufficiently dulled, and she wanted to nap again. She would not, but the opportunity would be there. It was a disarming feeling, one she was getting tired of.

Blake just wanted progress—forwards or backwards. She could not tell another ghost story, could not play another round of I-Spy. She wanted to see land. Or be told they had to turn back. Or just arrive. There was a pit in her stomach, and she just wanted it to go away.

* * *

It was embarrassing, honestly, but Weiss would never admit it. Sitting here in the ship's break room with Ruby, Sturmwald, and an assembled crew, Weiss watched as literally everyone, bar herself, knew what was going on. For one thing, Weiss did not know the game of poker—not its rules, not its draw; she could not even tell who was winning. For another thing, how everyone had assembled here, and why she had agreed to even sit at the table and watch everyone—including Ruby—play, was beyond her. But here she was.

"How old are you again?" asked one of the light-haired, semi-bearded clones at the table, eyes sizing Ruby up.

"Uh…sixteen," she replied meekly, only just peeking over her cards before looking back down at them.

A man beside the questioner nudged him with a shoulder. "What you were meant to say," said the second man, ever so helpful to Ruby, "was something along the lines of, 'Old enough to win your daddy's money.'"

The crew roared with laughter, jeers, and whistles, raising the volume of the pre-existing din that Ruby and Weiss had walked into only minutes ago. They had been this way for a while, it seemed. Someone's hand emerged from the crowd and rustled the questioner's hair while someone else protested, "Aw, don't mess it up! His momma chose that haircut just for him!" More whistles, new whoops. All of this drowned out Ruby's tentative, "Oh, okay."

"It's not my father's money," said the questioner, slapping the hand away. "And I cut my own hair, thank you very much. I call." The crew eased off him as he placed a single chip in the center of the table.

"Shame, that, 'cause your mom's _great_ at cutting hair. I call."

More chips added to the…pot. That was what they were calling it.

What even was this situation? The crew were more than happy to make disgustingly sophomoric "your-mom" jokes, Sturmwald was frustratingly silent and had allowed Ruby—an underage girl—to partake of this game, and Ruby was gambling someone else's chips away. And all of this was happening in front of Weiss, yet _nobody_ even looked her way. Either this was an omen for the weeks to come or Weiss had been transported to some bizzaro land.

"I'll call, too," said Ruby, still timid but evidently prepared. The crew looked at her for a moment, curious and in the same way they had on Ruby's first turn. Then they collectively shrugged.

"So, whereat do you live in Vale?" asked someone not playing. "I've got a cousin there. Lives by the canal. 'ts a pretty view, but that commute to the harbor eats him every day."

"I'm, um, outside of Vale. In the valley, but away from everything."

"Up where the farms are at?"

"A little…left of that."

"And I thought my cousin had a bad drive!" he laughed. "Probably good you're out of the city, though. I've only been there a couple times, but that's the type of place you ought to visit, not settle down."

Weiss, thinking it was her turn to be sociable, added, "It's ostensibly _required_ you have a commute there, what with urban housing prices being as they are."

The laughter died down. She was given blank, pointed stares. She had killed the mood.

After a painful while, someone at the table raised their bid by five lien.

Weiss coughed a little, excusing herself from that disaster. And what a disaster it had been. What sailor cared to talk about housing markets in a kingdom a thousand miles away? And what was Weiss thinking in the first place? No one, sailor or market analyst, would have been comfortable shifting from local pleasantries and trips down memory lane to _that_. Weiss could see the crew in the corner of her eye. They were trying to focus on the game in front of them, but she knew. She could see a few stray, accidental glances, and it was obvious she had messed up. It made her mad.

The conversation continued on without Weiss, and when she finally allowed herself to listen again, Ruby was speaking. "There's actually this bakery my sister and me like going to down the road. Well, I mean, it's like a ten minute drive, but it's pretty close. They make really good bread there."

"Not as good as Atlas bread, I bet," someone argued. "My wife's family has a recipe for some sort of rustic bread that's the best I've ever had." He turned to his crewmates. "Had to buy her another oven _just_ for the bread when we bought our house. She's gonna make more than all of us once she starts selling that stuff!"

"I've never had Atlas bread before."

"It's—"

"It's bread!" another crewmember interrupted. "If you've had one, you've had 'em all. I don't see what the big deal is."

"I mean…bread's a pretty big deal," Ruby said, a testing-the-waters smile as her regard. "Bread's good. I like bread."

It was strange. These crewmembers had no reason to warm to Ruby, and Ruby had no business warming to them. But that was exactly what was happening. Like Weiss' assistants before, these men were giving Ruby an inquisitive look, likely wondering if what they were seeing was a joke or not—not because Ruby was a perfect fit or something too good to be true but because she was earnestly trying, and her trying was clearly evident. It was her charm, whether she knew it or not.

All the men around her simply nodded in not-so-silent agreement. Then they moved on, refocusing on their bets. That was it—that was all. On some level, Ruby was one of them now, a sailor or a soldier or whatever hardened character she was not. Just by her comment of bread, or by her inability to converse, she had done what Weiss had failed to do year after year after year: she had made friends. It bothered the heiress, and more than a little bit, but with Ruby being her girlfriend and these sailors having been written off long ago, Weiss knew to temper her jealousy.

But she would never give up. No, be it due to a genuine want to be like her partner or a competitive spirit that was as voracious as it was insecure, Weiss spoke up once more. "Perhaps next round, I could be dealt in?"

Sturmwald was the first to raise his brow, then Ruby, and then the slower crew. Immediately, Weiss knew that, once again, she had made a mistake.

One particularly tactless crewmember only just withheld a snort. "I don't think I've _ever_ heard someone ask in on a game like that. It's like we've got an alien among us or something."

"Do you even know how to play, girl?"

"What, are we supposed to teach you how to wash your own clothes, too?"

"Yeah, we're getting close to your island. Don't think there's enough time to learn."

It was a noble goal, tact. Noble but short. Short and explosively shallow. Suddenly, those notions of temperance and patience—of writing off these sailors as nobodies Ruby could associate with all she wanted—were consumed by the roiling fury of a flame given too much fuel.

" _Girl_?" she asked, frozen gaze set on the unfortunate sailor who had let the word slip. He was frightened now—not terrified or silent but certainly shaken and repentant. Weiss kept on. "No one asked for your charity. I asked to be dealt in. That was it. Yet, for some reason, you took the request as a personal affront to your…what, your manhood? Did you want to show all the other guys what a big, strong man you are by disrespecting the woman you owe every single one of your paychecks to? _Pathetic_. I know teenagers more capable than you."

A shrill silence came over the crew. At once, their gazes turned blank, confused as to whether the correct choice of action was to turn to Weiss, their crewmate, or their captain. After a moment, Weiss' response had seemed, in spite of its rightness, _mean_ —and this was wrong, Weiss believed. But then the others broke out in laughter.

It was not an especially pointed noise, good-humored as it probably was, but as an extinguishing breath momentarily stokes a flame, Weiss' fury was rekindled and her doubts burned away.

Ruby must have been the only one who noticed her girlfriend's worsening mood, for when the crew continued to laugh and gibe their friend, Ruby's boot moved to Weiss'. She knocked the heiress' shoe with her own and diverted her attention. Nothing was said. Rather, Ruby gave a wordless, sheepish look of acknowledgement and let Weiss know these guys were jerks, that they would be fine, and that their heads did _not_ deserve to end up on pikes.

"All right," Sturmwald gruffed, bringing his crew to heel as gently as he could. "Enough of that. Deal Miss Schnee in. You're gambling her money, anyways."

The noises quieted and, without a quip or eye contact, Weiss was dealt her hand. The room had gone silent again, the shrillness returning immediately. In Weiss' mind, this was her fault. Indeed, it was a victory on some level—the crushing of her enemies, the seeing of them being driven before her, and whatnot—but she felt in hindsight that it had been immature and mean. Weiss was supposed to have changed from who she used to be, or so she thought, and her eruption had been…regrettable.

Having this on her mind, Weiss found it difficult to engage with the game despite all the fight she had put up for the sake of joining. She would place her bets, gauge the other players, and make a good effort of looking like she knew what she was doing, but whatever actions she would take were simply copies of the others' moves from earlier in the round. Thankfully, the previously gregarious crew was now speaking, if only at the bare minimum, and no one was questioning the heiress except Ruby, whose eyes showed pain.

After the round ended, Ruby's pain apparently became too much, and she cleared her throat to confront it. It was a quiet noise that could have been mistaken as genuine, but she got louder and louder until she finally got the hang of her confidence. This garnered concern from all corners of the table.

"You know," she began, somewhat meek, "I know you probably don't want to hear this from me since I'm a kid and all, but… My sister always told me to take responsibility for the things I do." Many of the men leaned forward, agreeing with Yang's message. "It's part of being humble and gracious, I guess. But being humble and gracious isn't easy, and taking responsibility is hard. You guys hurt Weiss' feelings, and then Weiss hurt yours, but everybody's acting like nothing happened—or, like, you're all acting like _something_ happened, but nobody wants to take responsibility. This is how friendships end."

Her tone was certain yet hesitant. She, like Weiss, knew her speech was out of turn and on matters that did not concern her, but she kept talking anyway. For what cause, Weiss did not know, but, for the heiress, the claim that _their_ feelings had been hurt made composure difficult.

"What are we afraid of when we choose not to take responsibility? Other people making fun of us? Guys… Weiss…" Ruby turned to her girlfriend. "Nobody's gonna make fun of you for doing the right thing. And if they do, do you really wanna keep them in your life?"

It was not that simple. A mistake is a mistake. Every hesitation to be virtuous is telling of a deeper vice. That Weiss was unable to take those comments in stride, or that Weiss was unable to contain herself when voicing her disagreements, or that she was unwilling to take responsibility right now are examples of character flaws. They are abhorrent and the reason she is alone.

"Stevens, apologize."

The sailor, Stevens, looked over at Captain Sturmwald and appeared confused. Duty quickly overrode his confusion, though, and he bravely looked Weiss in the eye, or however much of her distracted eye he could. "Miss Schnee, I'm sorry. My mom and sister are both really good poker players, and I didn't mean to say that you couldn't play. I just—"

"It's fine," Weiss interrupted. "You spoke honestly, and I'm over it." She was not, but she also had bigger problems to deal with. The man's frown tightened. "Let's just return to the game and rebuild whatever civility we lost."

With a quiet sigh, Ruby took Weiss' shoulder and brought the heiress in for a side-bar, the crew beginning to discuss amongst themselves out of respect. "Hey," she said gently, quick to calm Weiss' snap-fury with a hand on her hand. "Two-way street, okay? You gotta say something back."

Weiss scowled. Where had niceness gotten her before? Stuck on an island, treated like a commodity, undermined by her own family. Tact won wars, but appeasements started them. Her gaze flitted to the crew, whose gaze likewise flitted to this sidebar, and then back to Ruby. Her scowl then faded—Ruby was the only one looking out for her here, so there was no need to argue, no matter how much Weiss wanted to. No one was right here, and everyone was scared. "What can I say?" she admitted. "They don't want me here. Especially not after what I said."

An apology would only undermine her authority, after all, as Weiss had done nothing wrong aside from her biting retort. However, as valid as Weiss' criticism may have been, Ruby only seemed encouraged by the reply, a soft, reassuring smile on her lips. She looked as though she could have been more wrong in this moment than she ever had been before, yet she knew everything would turn out well in the end.

"Of course they want you here, Weiss," she whispered. "They wouldn't have joked with you if they didn't. I mean, no, they're not funny, but that's just their way. You're at the table, you have your cards, you got an apology, and we're only here because they wanted to take you home." The moons of her eyes cast downwards for a moment. "They're wrong, and you're right. But we gotta keep the peace. So, please, Weiss. Just try?"

Ruby was naïve, and she always had been; Weiss was right, and Ruby even admitted it. But for all Weiss' correctness, naïveté had still won more people over. So, amid the growing storm of excuses and criticisms, Weiss let the matter go. She would try Ruby's way for once. She did not smile, nor did she give Ruby a thankful look—indeed, her pride would live on even if it had to be swallowed. Weiss clenched her fingers around Ruby's hand and turned to the crew.

"I'm sorry," she said firmly, projecting her voice and looking her victim in the eye. "What I said was off-base, and I should not have assumed what I did from your banter. I am sorry, and I would like to keep things as professional as we can, if that works for you."

"Yeah," Stevens nearly coughed, still uncomfortable but trying to stay cordial. "Yeah, I didn't mean to say the stuff I did about you being a girl and all. I actually—" Whatever anecdote he had meant to share was cut off by another crewman's elbow to his ribs. He winced and began again, "Yeah, I'm sorry, too. Professional's good."

Weiss nodded, hopefully soberly but probably awkwardly. No one dared to mention the altercation again. The poker game resumed, the crew's banter eventually rose to its previous intensity, and not so much as a reference to the fresh awkwardness was ever approached.

Whatever Ruby did—whatever Ruby _ever_ did—was frustrating. She was not infuriating anymore, but frustration continued to linger for Weiss, and it manifested itself in new ways every day, which was frustrating in its own right. Ruby was supposed to be awkward, naïve, and sneakily competent. But here, in this below-deck mess hall with a crew she did not know and with bets she could not make, she was proving herself the opposite—glowing, understanding, and openly confident. These were good things, to be sure, and they were things Weiss genuinely liked about Ruby, but what frustrated the heiress was not that Ruby was glowing rather than awkward or better at poker than she could have imagined. It was the inability to know who Ruby truly was or whether the parts she liked about Ruby were real or not.

Weiss knew this transiency well. Not being able to figure out who a person was between adolescence and young-adulthood was common and natural, for what child knows who they are at that point? However, the allure of adulthood is tempting, and decisions are often made quickly and rashly at that point in a child's life. Blake had become a White Fang lieutenant by then, Yang had set out to look for her mother, and Weiss… It was frustrating because Ruby was free to not know who she was now or who she would be in the future, and she was free to never make that decision. And this was doubly frustrating because it _worked_ for her. She was not awkward or glowing, she was awkward _and_ glowing.

But why was this frustrating for Weiss? Ruby's dual qualities should have been admirable. In most cases, they certainly were, and Weiss' frustration was, again, never the result of anger or resentment. Frustration existed because Ruby made it look so effortless, her knowing and not knowing what to do. Like an artist, she could make a mistake and turn it into a triumph. But for Weiss, the mistake was death, the end. The mistake, as dismissible and forgivable as it should have been, was the end result of misplaced, inefficient effort, lost and never to be saved.

Maybe the frustration was self-resentment. It probably was. Weiss would need to fix that.

As the heiress finally picked up on the betting etiquette—indeed, she never became skilled at poker, having failed to memorize the best combinations and sticking instead to same-number matches like in the safer game of Go-Fish—a soft chime rang from the PA overhead. "We are arriving at Kaiser Island. The captain is requested at the bridge. All crew, prepare to dock."

A lot happened at once. With an accumulating sound of chairs skittering and clattering back, boots marching on metal, the pack of cards being swept back into its deck, and the giddy squeal from the youngest among them, everything was loud. But all Weiss she could hear was her heart, a slight ringing, and a small voice telling her that she needed to vomit.

Home. It was the last place she wanted to be.

Weiss looked over at Ruby, hoping to find some kind of reassurance in her joy, but the frustrating transiency of her and the entire situation failed Weiss once more. The wide smile on Ruby's face and the eager look she gave did nothing for the girl in white, and Ruby, usually alert to her girlfriend's hesitations, was blind to everything but the Christmas ahead.

Sturmwald was gone—off to the bridge—and Ruby was bouncing around as she moved to the stairs. Weiss took a moment, not gathering herself but…coming to peace with everything. She stood automatically, followed Ruby, and shivered.

* * *

As soon as the announcement was made, Blake and Yang made their way to the foredeck. Seeing Kaiser Island as they approached would be like a scene out of a movie, Yang had hoped, except realer and probably more disappointing by the time this trip concluded. Needless to say, she was excited. Naturally, Blake followed after because Yang's positivity was something she never wanted to miss. It also helped that when Yang got excited, she let off more warmth, which Blake had no intention of straying from. Therefore, the Faunus stuck close to her cold-weather ward while nearby crewmen soon found themselves in reasonable proximity to Yang once she got to the deck. For warmth, of course.

Blake was feeling better. Honestly, she had felt better not too long after she and Yang had settled into a staring silence. The vertigo was gone, the disgruntled mood that came with it was cured, and that unsettling feeling about Kaiser Island had turned to numbness or maybe even shared excitement.

Excitement—excitement to see the Schnees' home. Blake could not escape the ironies, but she honestly did not care right now. Maybe she might care when the medication wore off or when the consequences of this trip fell upon her, but, for now, a childlike sense of adventure spurred her on. Free from thoughts of revenge, justice, and usurpation—at least for the time being—Blake allowed herself a moment to be enthused about this trip.

The foredeck was fairly straightforward, its only function being to view what was coming next, either from the comfort of a cold, metal bench or from the vantage of a cold, metal rail. Unfortunately, the sea's fog was thicker than it had seemed when Blake and Yang looked out from the side of the ship. Yang frowned but nevertheless approached the forward railing. Blake kept up with her, though she kept her hands in her pockets while Yang leaned on the rail, peering out into the mist to find the island.

"If they're gonna make an announcement like that, you'd think they'd do it when we can actually see where we're going." Yang frowned then whined, "Come on…"

"They said we were arriving, not 'Land ho.'"

"You're a land ho."

"You always have the nicest things to say about me."

The smile on Blake's lips faltered as the ears beneath her bow flickered. A rapid clangor of bootsteps was approaching, and she figured the source of the noise was headed right for her. However, she knew the gait—or, at least, she knew the enthusiasm behind it. Knowing exactly who was heading towards her, Blake relaxed and resumed her smile.

Ruby scurried up to Yang's side, coming from wherever on the ship she and Weiss had been and making no effort to announce her presence, beginning to peer over the rail as well. Yang, to her credit, did not hesitate like her partner had. As if on instinct, she immediately wrapped an arm around Ruby and drew her in close.

"Can we see it yet?" Ruby asked.

"Nope," Yang replied. "Not unless you mean the fog. Then, yeah, we can see it."

This did not deter either from squinting harder into the mist. They quickly made an impromptu contest out of it, for Yang began pointing at suggestive wisps and shadows which made Ruby get excited before she was brought back down to earth by her sister's giggle. All Blake could do was continue smiling. That is, she smiled at the warmth beside her but turned her gaze away from the horizon and the sisters. Ruby had been so quick and so clearly eager to approach, but Weiss was nowhere to be found. She must have still been anxious.

The thought of Weiss—unfettered and steely as she usually was—being anxious was nearly enough to break Blake's mood. Things that made Weiss angry did not bother Blake since those things were many and frequent, but the ones that broke Weiss' pride and made her fear for the future were what concerned the Faunus. That Weiss was not here now was telling, and Blake's gut said this was bad.

But her smile lingered nevertheless. Blake was not used to optimism, yet now she clung to it, almost desperately. She looked back at the sisters and their unassuming cheer before leaning into Yang, hopefully drawing some kind of positivity from her. Yang's warmth was comforting and Ruby's increasingly upset reactions were amusing. In fact, the sisters and their combined presence were so relaxing on Blake's nerves that the Faunus shut her eyes, closed herself off from the world, and let the moment pass over her however it liked. In so doing, she failed to hear Weiss' arrival.

"Hey, Weiss!" Yang called out. "Come on over and look for the island with us!"

However long Weiss had been there, Blake did not know. The Faunus reopened her eyes and found the heiress behind her, sitting on a bench a few rows back, arms crossed and distant gaze looking past everyone else. Her response was a shake of her head.

"Please!" whined Ruby. "It'll be fun—"

Her plea was cut short. Yang gripped her shoulder a little tighter and frowned just for a moment before putting on a sunny façade. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about her. She's probably seen this sight a hundred times before."

Ruby's shoulders drooped beneath Yang's arm. "All right," she quietly said. She looked forward again and seemed to force her posture to get back to where it had been and, like her sister, put on a smile.

Blake, meanwhile, focused on Weiss. There was fear in the heiress' eyes, but there was also fury. This trip had been so turbulent for the entire team even though it had not really begun yet. Yang was already forcing her smile, Ruby was still coming to terms with Weiss' misgivings, Blake was having trouble deciding whether she should be happy for the sisters or fear for her own life, and Weiss had turned cold. There was still Christmas ahead and the gala, too, and surely some amount of good would come from this trip, but…

Blake knew not to trust her gut. For many, trusting a gut reaction can reveal a great deal about a situation that would otherwise be obscured by romanticism. But, for Blake, gut reactions led to hasty decisions with longstanding consequences. Her gut was screaming at her now—urging her to mind Weiss' misgivings and run as far as possible from them. It seemed reasonable to do so—and while Blake looked on at Weiss' preparatory steeling as she sat alone on that third-row bench, she was reminded why she should fear for her life—but she knew staying was her only option. For Yang, Ruby, and even Weiss, Blake had to stick around for support.

Suddenly, Weiss' shoulders rose and fell, a cloud escaping her lips as she sighed.

"Look! Yang! There it is!"

Blake turned to see what Ruby was pointing at.

Kaiser Island came at first as a shadow, a distant ghost caught between the mist and the grey-green sea. As the ship approached, the island revealed itself. First was its outline: cliffs to either side of the silhouette and a flat plane atop that. Then the mist began to peel away, revealing the fortress, itself: Glatteis Manor. Blake had seen mansions before, and she had seen pictures of extraordinarily lavish ones, too, yet not once had she seen or heard anything about the Schnees' new home except that it was worthy of its owners. No palace or castle or estate compared even in scale to what was appearing now. The White Fang had had no idea; the breadth of the manor was nearly that of the island, which was no small feat since Team RWBY was still thirty minutes away and the island was already huge. It would grow and grow until Blake realized it must have been at least a couple miles wide, and, with the island, so too did the manor expand. And it was tall. Three stories in some areas, taller yet in others—as they got even closer, the many wings and halls and specialized rooms made themselves distinct and made the manor as a whole asymmetrical. It was massive.

The structure shimmered beneath the grey daylight. Pristine and untarnished white stone glowed atop the rocks and dirt of the cliffs below. And though there was white, and indeed there was white, there was black, too. The windows, the doors, the trimming, and the ornamentation—Blake could already see that they were all black. It was a whited sepulcher, and it was a dark hearth, camouflaged among the mist but standing steadfast against the winter waves.

Ruby and Yang gasped a shared "Whoa" while Blake did her best to stay aloof—or, if she was being honest, to act unimpressed for some prideful reason she could not understand. But she was impressed, if not terrified that she and the White Fang had known absolutely nothing about such an expansive place. She knew the Schnees were powerful, but…"Whoa" was right.

It was in the face of this surprise, however, that Blake decided the trip would turn out positively. She had no proofs for this assumption, and she recognized that the powers she would face had many reasons to oppose her presence, but the context of this trip and the size of the manor made her feel small and insignificant compared to the bigger issues faced by the Schnees. Blake would slip under their radar, so to say, alongside Yang and Ruby.

Unfortunately, Weiss would not. The heiress looked as though she had frozen in her fear and fury. Her nostrils flared, but no steam came out, and her eyes focused singularly on the mansion before her. This was an all-around difficult situation, one Blake felt guilty for being positive about.

She checked on Yang again, then on Weiss, and she decided that no matter what, positivity would be upheld so long as they all stayed together. If Weiss could not rely on her family, then she could rely on Blake. That was what a team was for—just as Weiss had become part of Blake's surrogate family, so too would Blake return the courtesy as best she could.

Glatteis Manor loomed ahead, towering above Team RWBY on its island perch. This is where they would stay for the coming weeks and where they would be tested. Ruby grinned in wild excitement. Yang smiled, too, as she goaded her on. Weiss glared balefully at what was to come. And Blake held her breath.

* * *

So, that's Kaiser Island: a big, lonely island with a big, exorbitant mansion in the middle of the sea. It's where most of the novel will take place, and I hope my description of it was good enough. However, before we get any further in the novel, there's something I want to clarify about the geography of OKI. Kaiser Island is the island Weiss was born on, and Glatteis Manor is on Kaiser Island. This is where Team RWBY will be staying for most of the story. Prior to Weiss' birth, the Schnees lived in Schnee Manor, which was the place Blake mentioned when she recalled the mountain pass from her time with the White Fang.

The reason I bring this up is because I can foresee confusion arising when I mention certain places off-handedly, even though I've talked about them and their relationships previously. I don't expect anyone to go back and skim my stories for some obscure paragraph that defines my version of Remnant's geography, so I just want to get this clarification out there for future reference. If anyone is still confused, whether about some geography I've mentioned or even in-text descriptions of places, please let me know so I can revise the relevant sections.

Another thing I want to mention is Ruby. While I was reading over this chapter with CalitaRael, she mentioned that she liked my description of Ruby—specifically, she liked the line, "She was not awkward or glowing, she was awkward _and_ glowing." I think Ruby has been the most difficult character for me to write across all my stories, not because I had difficulty emulating her voice (which was my problem in _Edelweiss_ ) but because canon-Ruby just doesn't have enough characterization for me to do a deep-dive character study. I don't want to talk bad about _RWBY_ here, and I'm not going to, but that whole section leading up to the "awkward _and_ glowing" line was a good representation of the compromise I've had to settle with in order to make Ruby's character interesting.

Here's what I mean: In canon, Ruby doesn't get a lot of impactful screen time. Yes, she fights the bad guys, and, yes, she's present for important points during the story, but the amount of characterization we are presented with is very limited. Therefore, there's a lot I have to assume. We know she's innocent, a natural leader, and awkward. Her leadership ability and awkwardness, however, seem to clash at times, and those clashes were what I felt the need to grapple with in order to flesh out Ruby's character. So, I worked through the problem using Weiss' narrative voice and expressed my simultaneous frustration and appreciation of Ruby's awkward-and-glowing personality. I'm not done with the deep-dive yet, but I'm glad at least CalitaRael liked the beginning of it.

On the topic of her, I promised CalitaRael I'd talk about what she and her story _Forlorn_ have gone through. A couple months ago, CalitaRael took her bumblebee novel _Forlorn_ off of Fanfiction, AO3, and everywhere else. I can't share her reasons for doing so, but I can say it was a necessary move for her wellbeing. _Forlorn_ was a project she loved, and I know that what hurt her the most in taking her story down was seeing her readers' disappointment. Ultimately, though, she was happy with the appreciation they showed for her story. I enjoyed working with CalitaRael on _Forlorn_ , and I was proud to watch her grow as a writer.

Before she took her story down, though, she offered readers the opportunity to receive PDFs of her chapters for personal use. I have been heading this project and working to make sure _Forlorn_ is preserved respectfully, and I have been editing the chapters, working on supplementary material, and collaborating with CalitaRael to make sure everything is in line with her vision. She has told me that I can extend the offer to you all as well. We just ask that you don't redistribute the PDFs or use them for anything other than personal reading. If you would like to receive PDFs for _Forlorn_ , please e-mail us at carlyrealbiz (at sign) Gmail (period) com (Fanfiction doesn't make writing out e-mails easy). Just a warning: I'm still working on the PDFs, and they won't be done immediately. They will be sent as soon as possible.

Until then, thank you for your patience. I know it's been a while since the last update, and I know I've become distant. I am sorry for this and am making appropriate changes to limit future time spent away from OKI. I cannot guarantee that this sort of wait will not happen again, but I can guarantee that OKI will be finished no matter what. It just might take a bit. But, again, thank you for your patience.

I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday season. Merry Christmas if you're celebrating it, and thank you so much for reading.

Stay safe and stay tuned.


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